


Recondita Armonia

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Come Swallowing, Consensual Somnophilia, Deepthroating, Dissociation, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Restraints, Rough Sex Undertone, Smut, Some discussion over the Bible, Vibrators, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 09:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20328727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An agent AU that again, no one asked for.It originally came with some plot, but eventually turns into a collection of porn & fluff.In this AU, all skaters are agents working for the Intelligence Service. Stephane used to be an operating agent in an project against transnational terrorism, but his identity was leaked after a few years. The headquarter successfully rescued him, but he had to retire from field work due to injuries. He is now a mentor in the training department.Deniss has just passed his qualification exams, and Koshiro will be sitting the exam this year.Tatiana works for the HR. Carolina is a psychiatrist/therapist. Chris is the head of the communication department, and he designed a GPS implant for Stephane before he went for the project. Stephane is still carrying the implant with him now.Please check notes before each chapter. Although most stuff written here is conversations between friends/partners (and quite a lot of sweet and steamy sex), things mentioned/referenced may not be that fluffy. If anything triggers you, please don't read!





	1. A Little Fall of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:This is entirely fictional, and the work is unbeta'd. Apologies for any language bugs, and please don't hesitate to tell me if you find any!
> 
> There is some very simple French in the conversations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was set just after Stephane was rescued from his mission and recovered from the consequences of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Past Torture/PTSD/Dissociation/Nightmares/Comfort

_Just Hold Me Now and Let It Be/Shelter Me/Comfort Me_

_-A Little Fall of Rain, Les Misérables the Musical_

Chris was woken up in the middle of a stormy night. He could feel Stéphane trembling and gasping for air desperately beside him.  
“Stéph?” he turned the main light on, “Are you-”  
His lover disrupted and answered his question with a piercing shriek.  
“Stéph? Stéph?” Chris tried to call him a few more times, but he didn’t respond. Actually, he didn’t even seem to have heard it. He was in a nightmare.  
Chris knew where the nightmare came from instantly, and could even guess what was in Stéphane’s dreams. He read all the updates from the medical wing, as Stéphane’s emergency contact, and it took little imagination to understand what had happened to him.  
He wasn’t in the field when the successful rescue took place. The only confirmation he received from the communication system was ‘the basic reflexes are still there’. And the next time he saw Stéphane was in the medical wing, with the glass windows of the emergency room in between.  
And even if he was uninformed then, the scars left on Stéphane’s back would still tell him something.  
Chris wasn’t able to rescue Stéphane the first time, and almost lost him forever. And he really wanted to save his colleague, his friend, and his lover from this nightmare, so that he would not experience that trauma again. Even if it’s only in his mind.  
But he still couldn’t.  
Chris tried to call him, his nickname, alias, given name and even full name; he tried to hold him and lightly shake him; he even tried to pat his cheeks. Nothing works. The only thing he had in response was some muffled moan and even more violent gasping.  
He was not able to rescue his lover, once again. The only thing he could do is to cuddle his lover, hopefully giving some more warmth and preventing him from hitting the headboard or nightstand with his arms or head, during his struggle.  
Chris could feel a hint of moisture seeping through Stéphane’s, and his pajamas. His lover was sweating profusely.  
And yes, pajamas. Stéphane wasn’t a fan of them in the early years, and he would always snuggle into their bed and sheets with only boxers. He had never done so after being discharged from the medical wing. It might be an attempt to cover up the scars, but more likely just a sense of insecurity. Besides wearing pajamas to sleep, he would often held extremely tightly to a cushion or their blanket in both arms, curling up like a fetus, and facing away from Chris subconsciously in his sleep.  
But it wasn’t that Stéphane didn’t trust his lover anymore. He made every attempt when he was awake to persuade himself that the people now surrounding him were trustworthy. He positively tried to talk to them, had tea, coffee and occasionally dinners with them, and was slowly re-adjusting to socially appropriate bodily contacts. However, when he was not concentrated on ‘trusting others’, he was still hypersensitive and easily agitated. It was almost like a struggle between his active will power and his subconscious and instinctive defense.  
Chris did not note how long had passed. It felt that Stéphane had been trembling for a very long time, before he suddenly jerked forward and almost escaped from Chris’s arms.  
His breathing frequency changed, and his heart was pounding. Chris could feel it even though his palms were not pressed to Stéphane’s chest, and he could almost hear it despite the heavy rain and thunders outside.  
“Stéph?” Chris tried to call him again. Stéphane did not answer for the first few times, probably because he was still trying to catch his breath and realizing where he was.  
“Chris…?”Stéphane finally responded in a very low and weak voice, as if not sure whether he recognized his lover’s voice.  
“Yes. I’m here.” Chris reassured him softly, “I’m here. You’re home.”  
Stéphane exhaled-maybe sighed-in relief, and suddenly turned to pull him into an embrace, which was so tight that it hurts a little. Chris didn’t know what to say. He could only gently pat Stéphane’s shoulders.  
Stéphane was sobbing like a child. Chris knew his lover as a very emotional person when he’s not working, and it’s not rare to see him in tears. He could cry because of a movie, or even just a piece of music. But he had never seemed so vulnerable and fragile, as if he was completely shattered.  
Chris could feel himself about to cry. He couldn’t imagine a fraction of pain and suffering, and probably even desperation, which changed his lover so drastically. But he couldn’t. They couldn’t break apart at the same time.  
“Sorry to wake you up…” Another long period of time passed before the sobbing gradually subsided, and Stéphane finally calmed down. “How long had you been awake?”  
Chris gently stroked his hair which was soaked in sweat, “Not long? I didn’t look at the time. It’s fine, don’t apologize. Do you want a glass of water?”  
“No, it’s fine.”Stéphane suddenly held on tightly to the textile on Chris’s pajamas, “Don’t….don’t go.”  
“Right, it’s okay. I won’t go.” Chris cuddled his lover, “I’m here.”


	2. Douce Nuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the video in 2016 (?) AOI afterparty, when Stephane was drunk and gave Charlie a lap dance.  
One party is under the influence of alcohol when he actively consented to it.  
It’s not very edgy(?), nor is there very risky activity involved; but still it’s not very safe.
> 
> Drunk sex/DS undertone/Restraints/Vibrator/Nipple Play/Anal Sex
> 
> I'm sorry for writing this.

Tanya and Maxim drove Stéphane home.

“I’m sorry. I put some tequila in his glass…” Tatiana apologized in a low voice when Chris opened the door to receive Stéphane, “I knew he can’t drink much, but I did not expect that. I know you just came back from the airport, sorry for that mess. Do you need any….?”  
“Thanks, Tanya and Max.” Chris tried to help Stéphane to stand upright, “I can handle this…him.” He smiled, “Merry Christmas. To Angelica as well.”  
“Merry Christmas, have a good rest. See you at New Year’s Eve!” Chris could swear that Maxim was grinning when Stéphane was holding on to him like an octopus. Or a koala bear. He could even hear the couple’s laughter when they walked down the staircase.  
He had seen the video sent by Meryl as soon as he landed in Geneva. He thought it was a truth or dare, and to be completely frank, he was a little bit jealous.  
He knew Stéphane and Charlie were only friends, and Charlie was slightly scared in the video clip. There’s nothing between them, it’s just a game.  
What if it’s not a game? What if no one asked him to do this?  
But Stéphane was drunk, or at least under the influence of alcohol. He might not even know what he was doing. It’s not fair to blame him.  
I need some time to calm down, Chris thought. Maybe even a cold shower at Christmas time.  
But Stéphane wasn’t willing to give him the chance. He wrapped his arms around Chris and dragged him all the way from the entrance to their living room. “Chris.” He murmured, “You’re not at the ball today. I had to do the last dance with Meryl.” He pouted like a child, “I want to dance with you.”  
They’re so close. Chris could smell some ethanol, some sweet, creamy and chocolate-y scents from the pastries and desserts, the floral, fruity or powdery notes which probably came from his dance partners of the night, and the leathery scent from his own perfume. It’s an eccentric blend.  
And his white-tie dress was a mess. It’s still a full set, only the cufflinks on his wrist were gone. The sleeves of both tailcoat and shirt were pushed up to his elbow, his bow tie and the uppermost buttons of white shirt became undone, the white carnation pinned to his coat was slightly crushed.  
Chris couldn’t resist Stéphane like this. But he knew that he shouldn’t. Stéphane wasn’t sober, and himself wasn’t calm and rational. Yes, they were boyfriends and possibly life partners, but anything like this…was not acceptable.  
“Chris.” Stéphane lifted his chin to look up at him, “Chris? You’re not speaking. And you’re not looking at me.”  
I can’t. Chris silently screamed, how can I look at you now?  
“You…do you want to take a bath?” Chris tried to look away, “I think your tailcoat needs laundry and iron-”  
Stéphane pushed him down and pinned him to their sofa. “Chris. Are you angry at me? Meryl said she sent it to you.”  
Chris attempted to break free from his boyfriend, but didn’t manage to. There’s a glass coffee table behind them, and the least thing he wanted to do is to throw Stéphane onto it. It could break and cause some terrible injuries.  
The next thing he wanted to do is to hide his erection. Stéphane may not realize or remember anything tomorrow, but it was still pretty embarrassing. Again, Stéphane didn’t give him the chance. Stéphane pressed in closer, rubbing his own body against his boyfriend. He grinned widely when he realized what’s under the layers of Chris’s dressing gown and pajamas.  
“Chris.” Stéphane insisted on calling his name, “I’m sorry. The drink was terrible…I’ll apologize to Charlie tomorrow when I’m sober. But you know I’m yours.”  
Chris couldn’t tell if he was still intoxicated or had become sober. His face was slightly flushed, eyes shining with some excessive energy. The next thing he knew was that Stéphane was kissing him, hard and aggressive. Chris knew things were going to be uncontrollable if everything continues, but he had lost the capability to stop it.  
“You’re angry.” Stéphane said assertively, “what can I do as atonement?” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice.  
Chris couldn’t help but to lightly pat his back. “Don’t worry. I’m not that angry. Take a bath, and have some sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”  
Stéphane refused to listen to him. “Chris.” He murmured, “Dr. Trevisan?”  
Chris’s breath hitched. That title sounds simply erotic in this situation.  
But Stéphane did not stop at this. “Sir.” He said, and took off his black tailcoat, throwing it onto the floor.  
Chris wished that he hadn’t removed it. It’s troublesome if anything get onto the coat, as the lady at the laundry shop would definitely look at the pieces they send with a knowing smile. But without the coat, the curvature on Stéphane’s waist and hips was too obvious. He was wearing a black waistcoat and high-waisted black trousers according to the dress code, and they were altered by a tailor after purchase. His slim waist under the waistcoat and rounded shape under the trousers, they’re seductive on their own. He didn’t even need to move.  
“Sir.” Stéphane called him again, knelt down on one knee and offered both his wrists. They were not new to those love games, not after a mission they’d been assigned to a few years ago. They were still not strictly into it, not a complete yield of power. But many new toys were added to their repertoire.  
“Are you sure?” Chris clamped his wrists together, “I don’t even know if you’re sober now.”  
“I don’t know either,” Stéphane giggled, “but I’m sure.” He leaned in and whispered, “Punish me for my misconduct, sir?”  
Chris pulled him up and dragged him to their bedroom. Damn Safe, Sane and Consensual.  
Stéphane staggered a little on his way there, probably because he was still affected by alcohol, or because Chris was walking too quickly and holding both his hands. He was thrown onto the mattress before Chris put him under his own shadow, in a dangerously close distance.  
“I don’t think you can remember any safewords now. Say ‘Stop’ if you don’t feel right. Physical resistance would not be counted. Alright?”  
Stéphane beamed, “Alright.” He lifted his hands to cup Chris’s cheeks and kissed him, “Sir.”  
The next thing Stéphane knew was that he was turned over and forced to his knees beside their bed. He did not know how, but Chris managed to take a pillow from the far end of the bed and placed it on the floor, just under his knees. His arms were pulled behind, with something cold and hard clamping them together.  
It was a pair of handcuffs, controlled by passwords. They thought about the old-school lock-and-key type, but Wonka often strolled into their bedroom and messed up everything in their drawer. Although both of them could easily pick the lock, it was still not the ideal choice in case of an emergency.  
Chris held Stéphane’s upper body down to the mattress with his own body weight, while slowly undoing the rest of his buttons. The bow tie was removed from his neck and placed on his eyes, with a knot at the side.  
“I still don’t know what to do with you,” Chris whispered beside Stéphane’s ear, “my naughty kitten.”  
Stéphane flinched as the warm breath puffed around his ear, and blushed when he heard ‘kitten’. His belt was loosened, the fly on his trousers opened, both the black trousers and white boxers pulled down to his knees. It was not cold in their bedroom, but it still felt very exposed.  
“Relax.” Chris stroked his arched lower back, “It’s a punishment, but I don’t want to hurt you.”  
Some cold liquid was smeared onto him, and a finger slowly pushed in. Chris silently worked him open, but not as much as what they would do during a penetrative sex.  
Something round and hard replaced his lover’s fingers. Stéphane shivered as the little cold ball was pressed into his body, and placed just right at the point which could drive him crazy. Chris knew him too well.  
Stéphane blushed even more and buried his face into their sheets when he realized there’s still something outside. He remembered that this vibrator was not wireless, but connected to the control handle via a short cable. Most of the times, they would tape the handle to their lover’s inner thigh or place it flat on the bed, but Chris didn’t this time. The control was dangling outside like a tail.  
“Let’s go slow, shall we?” Chris gave the cable a light pull, not enough to move the vibrator, but enough for him to feel it. His lover let the handle go after starting from the lowest frequency, knelt down behind him and gently spooned him. The white shirt was pulled down from his shoulders and pushed all the way down to his wrists-it was impossible to take them off because of the pair of handcuffs-adding another layer of bondage on them.  
There were wet kisses and bites on his shoulders and back, and alternate heavy and light pinching and caress on his nipples. Stéphane tried to move his upper body to escape from those sensations, but every slightest movement would make the handle dangle more, tugging on the vibrator inside him.  
“Be still, my kitten.” Chris slapped on his buttocks. Stéphane inhaled sharply. To be spanked as an adult carried some shameful connotation on its own, and the sound seemed to be amplified ten times when he was blindfolded. The smack had also definitely moved the evil toy inside him. “You asked for this, hmm?”  
Stéphane could not argue anymore. The frequency and amplitude of vibrator were gradually increased, pushing him all the way to the edge. But it’s not enough.  
“How’s that?” Chris whispered again, just beside his ear.  
Stéphane spoke in a haggard and sobbing voice, “Please…More.” He didn’t even know he was crying until he heard his own voice and finally felt the wet spots on his bowtie, now a makeshift blindfold, “…Sir.”  
Stéphane did not change how he addressed Chris, implicitly meaning “continue” in their games. Chris chuckled and asked, “What else do you want?”  
“I want you.” Stéphane murmured, “I need you in me.”  
The vibrator was removed immediately, the handcuff simultaneously unlocked. He was pushed onto the bed, lying on his back, legs spread. The cuff was locked again onto his wrists, fixing them onto the frames of the headrest. Chris continued to open him up even more with a generous amount of lubricant, and pushed himself in.  
Stéphane forced himself to swallow a sharp cry. He still remembered that he did not hear their bedroom door closing, and he didn’t want to wake Wonka up. It was not much about letting her see the whole thing-she was an adult cat anyway-but she might jump onto their bed and try to scratch Chris, to rescue Stéphane from the villain.  
The sensations were so clear with the blindfold on. Stéphane could feel every movement, every change of angle, and every breath of his lover.  
“..May I?” Stéphane asked in a shaky voice when he felt he’s close, “…Sir?”  
“Go for it.” Chris answered, brought him into a tight embrace and kissed him on the lips. Stéphane was never that thankful for a kiss, as he knew it was impossible to suppress that scream.  
Chris took both the blindfold and the handcuffs off when he recovered from his own orgasm. He cuddled his lover in his arms, and slowly patted him on his back, waiting for him to come back to the ground.  
Stéphane crossed his fingers behind Chris’s neck and lifted himself up. “Sir?” he asked.  
“No. Chris.” Chris corrected him, “It’s over, mon Chéri.”  
Stéphane snuggled to his lover’s chest, “It’s late.”  
“It’s almost 4 am in the morning. Do you want to take a bath?”Chris stroked his lover’s soft hair, “I’ll get the water.”  
Stéphane slowly walked to their bathroom on unsteady steps, and Chris carried him into the bathtub. Stéphane grinned, and pulled his lover into it as well. The water overflowed, but they couldn’t care now.  
Chris looked carefully at Stéphane under the relatively bright light in their bathroom. His eyes are pink and puffy from crying. A hint of flush still remained on his cheeks. There were love bites and swollen patches of skin on his chest and torso. Some bruises, which resembled a hand print if analyzed carefully, appeared on his waist. And there was a red and swollen band on each of his wrist, probably even with some broken skin. Chris did not know if it was too much for him, but Stéphane took Chris’s left hand and bowed his head to kiss the knuckles. There was a wicked smile on Stéphane’s face.

Stéphane woke up the next morning to the snow outside their windows. He had a headache, which was definitely a hangover from last night, and some strange sore feelings. He looked on himself, and found a few fresh bruises on his arms. These marks could easily be covered under winter clothing, he thought.  
He picked up his phone from the nightstand. It was bombarded with all the incoming messages. Most are festival greetings, but there are some other messages which caught his eyes.

From: Meryl  
01:23, 25 December 2016  
I sent the video to Chris. Good luck, Stéph :p

From: Deniss  
00:15, 25 December 2016  
Your cufflinks are in the right pocket of the tailcoat. Merry Christmas!  
P.S. I don’t think you can try my Christmas Pudding*. It has to be served with brandy sauce.

Stéphane wiped his face with palms, stood up and walked into their dining area. Chris was cooking some scrambled eggs in the kitchen.  
“Bonjour, mon Chéri.” Chris handed him a cup of juice, “No caffeine after a hangover. Joyeux Noël*.”  
“Joyeux Noël.” Stéphane pecked his lover’s lips, “Did I fall down last night? After drinking?”  
Chris looked at the bluish-purple marks on his lover’s skin, “…You did.” He turned back to the stove to hide his blushing.  
Stéphane tried very hard to hide his grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, mon cheri: Good morning, darling.  
Joyeux Noël: Merry Christmas


	3. A Study of the Pros and Cons of an Implant of Touch-Sensitive Signaling Devices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The GPS signalling implant was activated and automatically sent an SOS signal to the system when Stephane was in bed with his boyfriend. The implant was sort of too advanced, but let's assume such things exist.
> 
> Unresolved Sexual Tension/Oral Sex/Deepthroating/Come Swallowing

Chris’s phone rang when they were in bed, with their limbs tangled. It’s normal for them to stay in bed at night, having some very intimate time. It’s also normal if one of their phones beeps and reports an emergency at night. However, it’s absolutely rare for an emergency call to come in when they are having sex.  
Chris stopped and almost banged his face against Stéphane’s back. He could feel that his lover was trembling a little, he knew what it was.  
“I know you’re laughing at me, stop pretending you’re not.” Chris sighed, sat up and looked at his phone, “it’s from my department.”  
Stéphane turned to his side and hugged a fluffy pillow, “It really sounds like a fire alarm.”  
“That’s why it’s an emergency call.” Chris picked up the call and took a deep breath, “Trevisan speaking.” His voice was calm enough so that the person on the other end wouldn’t know what was happening a minute ago. There was still a hint of discontentment, but it was easy to explain, Stéphane thought. You wouldn’t expect a pleasant greeting when you call someone at 11.30pm, especially if it was work-related.

“Elisabeth Wilson speaking. Sir, I’m on duty tonight, and a SOS signal was sent to the system. I can’t assess the entire message, it has a very high security level.”  
“Right. Have you checked the sender’s ID code? Is him or her on a mission now?”  
“No.” The young girl said after a few seconds, “The ID code is protected. The system requires a security level of at least 4 to assess anything in the message. All I can see is a red SOS box on the screen.”  
In most instances, if someone on mission sends a message to HQ, the higher the required security level is, the more important the mission would be. The person could also be in greater danger, sometimes life-threatening.  
“That’s unusual. I’ll log on at home now. Be on standby.” Chris hanged up, noticing that Stéphane was no longer in their bedroom. His lover was in the study, with a plain long shirt on, softly humming a song and typing something on their shared computer.  
“Basic security firewall has been setup.” Stéphane gave the chair to Chris and threw himself into an armchair next to it, “you can log on now. “  
“Thanks.” As lines and lines of commands was entered, his facial expression became more and more stern. “Stéph-“he paused and looked at his lover, who was leaning on the armrest and looking back at him, “do you know if anyone has the ID code 60223? It feels so familiar but I can’t remember who it is.”  
“Yes?” Stéphane nodded, “that was my code.”  
“Yours?” Chris shook his head, “no, I’m serious. Isn’t your code 16027?”  
“It WAS my code. I mean, the code for Prometheus. Is the message from that code?”  
“It is.” Chris turned back to the computer, “It could be a security breach. I can ask Lizzy to do a screening.”  
“Wait.” Stéphane looked down at his wrist, “Is there a way to test if the message is actually given by this chip? Before we ask her to do a 2-hour check at midnight.”  
Chris frowned, “but you didn’t activate-” something suddenly crossed his mind, “yes. Give me a message now, without doing the activation step.”  
Stéphane tapped a few times on his right wrist, near the almost invisible 2-cm scar. Chris stared at the screen, as a few words appeared on it.  
“‘You’re beautiful’? Is it a complement or a music reference?”Chris took his lover’s right hand while the other smiled back at him.  
“If you know the song, you’ll know it’s not a good reference. So it was sent by my chip? Why was it—oh my god.” Stéphane blushed when he realised what happened, “you were pressing down on it just now. Any heavy pressure of more than 30 seconds is sufficient to trigger a response.”  
“I need to call back first, before Lizzy starts to panic and wake everyone up.” Chris picked his phone up again, “but at least we know your chip is still working.”  
“Elisabeth Wilson speaking.” The young girl was clearly stressed, “what do I need to do now?”  
“Nothing.” Chris dismissed the message and logged off from the system, “I’ve checked the code and contacted the sender. He is safe, not under any threat. It’s a false alarm.”  
Elisabeth paused for a while before speaking, “Sir, is it possible if someone has him, forcing him to say they’re alright? I mean, it looks like a very serious message. I’ve never seen a warning like this.”  
Chris smiled. “It’s great that you’ve considered that. But no, I have him now and he’s physically within 5 meters of me.”  
“Right. It’s reassuring to know our colleague is safe—what?” The girl screamed surprisingly on the other side, “physically have him?”  
Chris could hear Stéphane giggling nearby. “I did not say ‘physically have him’. Don’t quote me on that, Lizzy. Have a safe night.”

“It seems that what we were doing wasn’t appropriate?” Stéphane stood up, embracing Chris from behind. “Wanna finish it in another way?”  
“Hmm?” Chris laced their fingers together, “the floor is yours.”*  
Stéphane kissed his shoulder, “That’s precisely what I’m thinking.” He moved to the narrow space between the chair and desk before Chris could process his words.  
“Wait, don't—” Chris grabbed his lover’s arm when the other man was trying to kneel down in the small space, “your knees.” He reached over to the armchair, took a soft cushion, and placed it on the floor while moving the chair back a bit so that Stéphane could position himself more comfortably. “Allez-y?”  
“D’accord..” Stéphane answered softly and slowly dropped to his knees. Chris couldn’t see the other man’s lips from that angle, but he saw the fine lines near the corner of his eyes. He knew Stéphane was smiling.  
We are no longer young boys, Chris thought. Fine lines crept onto Stéphane’s face. He had mentored many students, some of them had become qualified full agents. Time might seem to pass more slowly in his Communication Department, but an all-nighter of security attack could leave him exhausted now. The initial passion might have burned out, but they’re so used to each other’s presence.  
“Chris?” Stéphane looked up into his lover’s eyes and lightly tapped his thigh, “C’est bon? You can say no if it makes you uncomfortable.”  
“Oui, c’est bon..continuez. J‘ai pensé..” Chris met his brown eyes and heard him asking “à quoi”. He ran his fingers through his lover’s soft dark curls, bowed down to kiss his brows and answered, “à toi.”  
Stéphane hummed and waited until the sense of warmth on his forehead disappeared. “Permettez-vous?” He asked.  
“S’il vous plaît.”  
Stéphane crossed his wrists at the small of his back, “I hope no more messages will be sent to the system. I’m sure Lizzy will corner you for an interrogation tomorrow.”  
“I won’t—“ It was disrupted by a sharp inhale as Stéphane opened his mouth and slowly took Chris in. Chris threw his head back and looked at the ceiling, breathing heavily. No, even if he tried to close his eyes, he could still imagine Stéphane. Stéphane’s hair had become a little bit too long. A few strands fell loose and would probably cover his eyelashes. His long and elegant neck. His slender fingers behind his back. And..and his body, nimble but full of power.  
His thoughts were again disrupted by a gentle squeeze and slight sucking, and he took a deep breath and gently pushed Stéphane away. Stéphane raised his eyelid, silently asking if anything was wrong.  
“There’s one thing I forgot to ask.” Chris brushed his knuckles against Stéphane’s chin, “is it alright if I...um, come on you?”  
He heard a low and throaty laugh. “Anything, mon chéri.” Stéphane dropped his head, and he said, “make me.”  
Chris could detect a hint of mischief in Stéphane’s voice. He almost lost control, squeezing his lover’s jaw and forcing him to open his mouth, with a strength that would probably leave a bruise. He pushed the back of the other person’s head, fast and deep, until he heard a muffled moan and felt a slight struggle.  
No, he realised, it’s too much. He looked down and saw something shiny under his lover’s eyes, in the shadow of his ruffled hair. He was crying, and very likely chocking.  
“Pardonnez-moi..” He released his grip and tried to move back, but the chair only gave a squeaking sound against the floor.  
Stéphane did not move away. He placed his palms flat on the other person’s lap, and tapped his fingers repeatedly on them.  
It took Chris a few moments to realize it was a series of codes. His mind must be in a state of chaos, as he was pretty sure Stéphane had repeated the message at least three times before he could decipher it.  
Stéphane told him, “I’m fine. Relax and leave it to me.”  
Chris tried very hard to control his breath so that he wouldn’t suffer from hyperventilation later. Every sensation was amplified more than ten times with his eyes closed. Each movement of Stéphane’s tongue around him, the gentle pressure from his soft lips, the occasional squeeze from the back of his throat and every sucking with absolutely no clearly defined rhythm.  
They knew each other too well. They knew how to please each other, in other words, to break each other apart.  
He couldn’t give any warning before his orgasm came. It swept him over, leaving him floating for a considerate amount of time. When he finally descended back to the ground, he saw that Stéphane was carefully licking him clean.  
No tissue paper was seen around, and the floor was as sparkling clean as before. Chris asked in disbelief, “did-did you just-“  
Stéphane lifted up his chin and smiled, “I did.”  
His lips were wet and plump. Chris cupped his face in both hands and gently wiped those tears off. “Ça va?”  
Stéphane hummed and nibbled at Chris’s thumb. “Ça va très bien.” He leaned in closer, pressing his cheek against his lover’s torso and wrapping his arms around the other’s lower back.  
“Je t’aime, mon amour.” Stéphane spoke in an almost inaudible voice as he rubbed his slightly stubbed cheek against the other’s stomach, “Je t’aime.”  
Chris slowly stroked his lover’s hair, “Je t’aime aussi. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allez-y: Here you go.   
D'accord：Alright  
C’est bon?: Is it alright?  
j’ai pensé à toi: I'm thinking about you.  
quoi?: What？  
Permettez-vous?: Do you permit it?  
S'il vous plaît: if you would please.  
pardonnez-moi: pardon me  
mon chéri：my darling  
Ça va?/Ça va très bien: how is it?/it was so good.  
mon amour：my love  
je t’aime (aussi): I love you (too).


	4. In the Eye of a Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Deniss's mission went wrong, and someone kidnapped Stephane and Koshiro together with the young agent. They tried to torture Stephane to make Deniss talk.  
This chapter is formed of three parts. The first-aid procedures may not be correct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Off-screen torture/Off-screen rape/Acute Stress Disorder/Graphic Depiction of Violence

Deniss held Stéphane in his arms and helped him to sit down on the floor. He looked pale and fragile, but a hint of smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth as he saw Deniss and Koshiro.  
Deniss had learned sufficient first-aid skills to cover the possible injuries which could occur in field work. He tried to keep calm and recall everything from the module. “First, triage.” Laura’s voice resonated with his memory, “assess the patient’s condition. Life first, limbs second, and if you have time, treat soft tissue injuries.”*  
Normal vitals. No heavy bleedings. Deniss silently counted. But limbs. He looked at Stéphane’s right wrist, he knew that it was probably dislocated. After all, he had seen everything from the monitor earlier.  
Stéphane noticed that Deniss was hesitating. “No big issues,” he said. “Just put it back to place. I don’t think it’s a fracture.”  
“No.”Deniss frowned, “You need some painkillers. That’s what Laura told us to do.”  
Stéphane sighed, “I know Laura is always right, even if she’s not. But she’s not here and won’t terminate your certificate if you skip painkillers.”  
Deniss bit his lip and shaked his head, “I can’t… ‘Excruciating pain’, that’s what she said. It can make everything worse, if you go into a neurogenic shock.”  
“Alright.” Stéphane offered his forearm to Deniss, “Hold it, don’t move.”  
Deniss did as he said, not knowing what Stéphane wanted to do.  
“Now, close your eyes. You too, Koshiro.” Stéphane lightly touched and pressed on his injured wrist, “Don’t move and don’t let go, Deniss.”  
Deniss heard him taking a few deep breaths, and felt a force against the arm he was holding. Stéphane’s breath suddenly hitched. Deniss understood what happened after a moment and opened his eyes in disbelief.  
Stéphane supported his wrist in his left hand, but was crouching down because of the pain. Deniss could see the drops of sweat on his forehead.  
“Don’t tell Laura.” Stéphane’s voice was so shaky that Deniss thought he would pass out the next moment, “I have had enough of her lectures.”  
Deniss could do nothing but to nod. “It needs to be immobilised.” He looked around, “I’m sure there’s something to replace a wooden splint-“  
Stéphane stopped him. “No, it’s fine. I hate bandages. Just-”he ignored the obvious disapproval in Deniss’s facial expression, “Please?”  
Deniss sighed. He couldn’t say no. “Right…okay, soft tissue now. Koshiro, can you get some saline and gauze from that box?”

“Deniss.” Koshiro spoke as Deniss was cleaning up the small wounds on their mentor’s shoulders, “I’m not suggesting anything, but,” he hesitated, “is what you are keeping…worth it?”  
Deniss froze. He was trying to avoid asking himself this question in the past few days, because he knew he couldn’t answer it. He tried to act calmly when those people spoke to him from the intercom system. He tried to persuade himself that Stéphane would be fine, although he knew it was a lie. He tried not to react too much to Stéphane’s pale smiles. He tried very hard to be strong.  
“Have some faith in Deniss.” Stéphane spoke softly, “Koshiro-actually, this principle should only come next year when you start your field work course. Trust only your instinct and judgements, and nothing else.”  
“And Deniss,” he turned to the young man who was biting down on his lips, “like you said, we work independently. I have no idea what you’ve been assigned to, so I can’t give you advice on what to do. But be assured,” he took Deniss’s free hand and gently gave him a squeeze, “I will try my best to support you. A thousand times, if you need.”  
Deniss couldn’t hold his tears back anymore. “I’ve never thought they would..” Take his colleagues and friends. Torture the person whom he always look up to. Leave him seeing everything happening but being able to do nothing to stop it.  
Stéphane released his hand and tried to sit up. Deniss quickly supported his back, avoiding pressing on any bruise and cut. “I’m fine. Okay, may not be that kind of fine… but I can deal with it. Do what you must. You know there’s always a price to pay.”  
Deniss squeezed his eyes shut and roughly mopped his tears away. “What if they continue to..?”  
“The decision is yours.” Stéphane looked into his eyes, “You know I can’t decide for you, I don’t want you to regret that choice. But whatever you choose,” he paused and waited until Deniss was no longer avoiding looking back, “be strong.”  
The young agent nodded slowly, “I…I will.”  
___________________________________________

Deniss brought his knees to chest and squeezed himself into a ball, looking down at the bright patch on the floor. It was quiet in their room-in fact, their cell-at midnight, and the silence was driving him mad. He couldn’t sleep, not when Stéphane was unconscious because of him. I did this to him, he thought. He would be sleeping at home in his partner’s warm company, he would be free from pains, he would not be humiliated and violated in front of the camera and his own students, if I were not so careless in my work.  
He knew Stéphane would never complain, and he guessed that Stéphane was much much stronger than he ever imagined. But it didn’t mean he could easily let it go.  
He looked around. None of them had any communication device or weapon, so the only thing he could do is to pray that the HQ had noticed that Stéphane and Koshiro were missing, and that they were following every lead to track them down. Hopefully, a rescue mission would come soon. Since there were sufficient food and water, Koshiro and himself may be able to survive for many more days, but Stéphane…he didn’t know how much a human body, in flesh and blood, can take. Stéphane had been having fevers since this evening, from which he suspected a wound infection. There were no antibiotics in the first-aid box, and he well knew what could happen if it was left untreated for longer.  
He sighed heavily and turned his head slightly to check on the two people sleeping on the floor, but met a pair of bright brown eyes. He almost jumped in surprise, “Stéph! You’re…how do you feel right now? I know it must be…” He couldn’t really articulate his thoughts. He had so much to say, and to ask.  
Stéphane pressed his index finger against his lips, “Shh, Koshiro is sleeping.”  
Deniss grabbed the water bottle and a small bottle of pill, and lowered his volume, “it must be painful. I could only find some paracetemol in the first-aid box, it might help a little.”  
Stéphane did not move, but continued to look at him with a smile he couldn’t decipher. “Deniss,” he said, “I thought I taught you this about medication.”  
Yes, Deniss realised. It’s fine to use some external medication you find in the field, but only ingest a pill if you know what’s in it.  
“I mean, I can’t think anything worse unless they want to poison us, which doesn’t make sense, but just in case.” He reached his left arm to Deniss, “It’s really not that serious.”  
Deniss hated it, but he could feel that he was going to cry again. “But you…you were…” He couldn’t pronounce the word. How could he remind Stéphane of all the nasty things that happened this morning?  
“Come, get some rest. I would’t vaporise and disappear if you slept.” Stéphane moved closer to Koshiro and made some space for Deniss, “You need clarity of mind and physical strength. Staying up all night is not gonna give you these.”  
Deniss hesitantly moved and lied down beside them. “ça ira bien,”* Stéphane took his student’s hand and brought it to his chest. Deniss could feel a small metal charm under his shirt, he knew it was the cross that Stéphane always wore.  
“Ne vous souciez pas de moi.”He murmured, “Il me protège.”*

\-----------------------------------------------------

Both Deniss and Koshiro was woken up by a push on their forearm.  
“Sorry, I’m just getting some water.” It was still a murmur, Deniss thought, but somehow unnecessarily loud at this time. It can’t be normal, his instinct said.  
A second later, he felt some light taps, long and short, on his arm. He knew Koshiro must have felt it as well, since the boy opened his eyes wide and large.  
They’re coming. Face the camera and call for help later.  
Stéphane repeated his message. Deniss wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘them’ and ‘later’, but still gave him a few taps signalling that the command was received.  
Stéphane nodded and stood up. He took a few steps towards the shelf, but suddenly lost his balance and dropped to the ground with a loud bang.  
Both young boys rushed there and tried to shake Stéphane. His eyes were shut, but Deniss could see his lips moving in the dim light.  
Call for help now.  
Deniss jumped up and waved furiously at the camera. “He’s unconscious again and having a high fever for two days!” he shouted, “Please send someone!” He looked back and saw Koshiro pretending to take Stéphane’s pulse.  
Koshiro knows what to do, he thought. A moment later, he saw Koshiro shaking his head in panic and looking around with fear.  
Deniss knew that was probably just a reflection of the ‘A’ grade which Koshiro got from his response module, but still felt his heart pacing. “Please!”  
Their door opened and two tall men ran in, followed by two people with their stethoscope and something looked like a bigger medical box. The two men pushed Deniss and Koshiro to the corner away from Stéphane. A male physician-probably a physician-cautiously crouched down and pinned Stéphane’s shoulders to the ground, nodding to the woman and telling her to assess Stéphane’s conditions.  
Deniss had no idea what to do next. He could see that all four of them carried a gun, while they had nothing. They were separated. Nothing could be used as a cover in their cell, and he had no idea if Stéphane could even move anymore.  
He heard footsteps. The two men turned to the door and placed their hands on their gun. However, before they could draw out their weapon, the door flung open and something was thrown inside.  
Stéphane moved. He sprang to his feet, knocking down both physicians with his elbow, caught the pistol and turned to the two tall men.  
Deniss immediately pushed Koshiro down to the ground, covering him with his own body. He heard someone firing-hopefully Stéphane-and two body dropped on the floor.  
Two down.  
Deniss jumped up when he saw the woman reaching for her weapon, gave her a heavy blow at the back of her neck. He was not sure if her spine was broken, but that was not important.  
Another sound of firing. The last men was down.  
Deniss saw two people at the entrance, both with their weapons drawn, but could not figure out who they were from where he stood. His mentor was standing facing the door, away from them, with the pistol in his left hand.  
Stéphane raised his brows. “No security alarms?”  
“I know I’ve been away from field work for a few years, but I do still have some common sense. All of them are deactivated.”  
Deniss was surprised as he identified Chris’s voice. He always thought Chris had never been, and would never be, assigned to an operation which requires him to leave the HQ.  
“Emmi and I are here, as you can see. Rob is on watch, and Salome is taking care of all the cameras. We’d better go before she gives a warning that their help is coming. Activity status?”  
Emmi walked in and helped Koshiro up. Stéphane turned back to glance at his two students, “I can’t run a marathon, but faster than if anyone tries to carry me around. Deniss and Koshiro should not have any major injuries.”  
Chris nodded, took the pistol from Stéphane and handed it to Deniss. “Take it. Make sure everything is clear behind us.”  
Stéphane moved his lip, but Chris spoke before he could. “Deniss is a qualified full agent. He can do it.”  
Deniss took the gun in his right hand, nodded to Chris and followed them out of the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ça ira bien: It's going to be alright.  
*Ne vous souciez pas de moi, il me protège: Don't worry about me, He is protecting me.


	5. Comme Un Homme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Deniss had a panic attack, and Chris helped.  
The first-aid measures for panic attack may not be correct.  
The title literally means 'like a man'; It's the French version of the song 'Bring Him Home' from Les Miserables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentioned off-screen torture and rape/Panic Attack/Acute Stress Disorder/Self-blame/Angst

Deniss hesitated in front of Chris’s office. He wasn’t sure if it was right to raise his concern, and if he was in a position to do so. Most importantly, he didn’t know if Chris was the right person to speak to. He still couldn’t get over the thought that Stéphane suffered so much because of him, and Chris was Stéphane’s long-time life partner, possibly his legal partner.  
However, he didn’t know who to talk to, besides Chris. Surely Peter must know this, but he didn’t think that arranging a meeting with their Honorary Head of Agency is a good idea.  
Deniss knocked on the door.  
“Come in.”  
That’s a voice which Deniss was familiar with. He always knew the man to be calm and rational, and it was difficult to imagine him being angry. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to witness this today.  
Chris moved away from his monitor and keyboard when he saw the young man. “Deniss? Have a seat, please.” He pointed to the soft armchair in front of the desk, “Did you rest well these days?”  
“I-I did, thanks.” Deniss placed both hands on the armrest, but didn’t feel right. He then moved them to his lap, but it felt too formal and serious. Fine, I don’t know what to do from the first minute, he thought. “Do you have a minute? If you’re busy now, I can come back later-Sorry, I should have noted it is office hour now.” Deniss tried to read Chris’s eyes to see if there was any disappointment or anger. He didn’t see anything.  
Chris smiled, as he noticed how anxious the boy was. The past week must be very tough for him. “No, I’m quite free today. Make yourself at home. You’re not my new intern. Even Lizzy and Chloe gossip about me behind my back now. I mean literally behind my back, within a meter’s distance.”He rolled his eyes, “I’m trying not to be offended by the girls.”  
Deniss could almost imagine the situation, and laughed briefly. The smile soon disappeared from his face when he remembered what he came for. “I was thinking about-um, about the chip.”  
Chris raised his brows. “Stéph told you about it?”  
Oh my god. Deniss screamed in his head, I hope I didn’t screw it up in the first sentence. That was probably something confidential, and he shouldn’t know it-in other words, Stéphane shouldn’t have told him about it.  
“I woke up one night and saw him sending a message. If it’s confidential,” he tried to find an excuse, “I-no, he couldn’t avoid me in the room. There’s no cover, and he was trying very best to do it when both of us were sleeping.”  
“Relax. I’m not saying you shouldn’t know it. The documents are yet to be disclosed, which is scheduled in about 6 months. But since Stéph has retired, it really doesn’t matter.” Chris made a cup of hot tea and pushed it across the table, “So, the chip?”  
Deniss held the warm porcelain cup in both hands. “If I understood it right, the chip sends GPS signal back, which means the HQ knows about his location. And it’s active. I’m just thinking, um, I mean, I can understand we need to track our colleagues on missions to ensure their safety, but a build-in chip seems a little bit too much? And also,” he took a sip of the hot tea, “he has retired from active field work.” Deniss briefly closed his eyes. That’s all the argument he had prepared, and he had successfully said everything. Well done.  
“It’s really kind of you to, well, care about him.” Chris placed both elbows on the desk and leaned slightly closer to the young man, “I still can’t comment much about it, since it’s yet to be disclosed, and we’re not in an emergency situation now. But I can assure you that his location is not always accessible, but only when he decided to report that he’s in need of instant support. And even he did so, not everyone can assess the information. Does this help with your concern?”  
“Yes…thank you.” Deniss put the cup down, “Does it affect his, um, daily life? To me, it seems very uncomfortable to have something near the joint.”  
Chris sighed. “As far as I know, he never complained about any discomfort. But even there is,” he paused for a second, “he has lived with it for more than fifteen years.”  
Fifteen years. Deniss did a quick calculation. That means it was implanted when Stéphane was only nineteen years old, at most; the same age as me now. What mission was he assigned to, so that he needed such a secret device to protect himself? What kind of danger was he in then? And, was the calmness and resilience he showed when subjected to torture come from that?  
The torture. The memories suddenly came back to Deniss and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep himself from screaming. His chest was tight and the world started to spin around him. There wasn’t even a tiny bit of physical pain inflicted on him in the five days, but he still couldn’t look at his memories in the eyes.  
“Deniss?” Chris called his name, “Deniss. Breathe.” Chris wasn’t sure what triggered the young man, but he was sure that Deniss was almost in an anxiety attack. He wasn’t new to this. Stéphane did have some recurring nightmares and flashbacks many years ago. He knew how to handle it.  
Deniss could hear someone calling his name and asking him to breathe. He heard the person counting, slowly and firmly. He instinctively attempted to follow that rhythm.  
It seemed to take ages for the tightness in his chest and the dizziness to go away. Deniss opened his eyes when he felt he was on ground again, and saw Chris’s green eyes, filled with concern. “Deniss.” Chris asked him, “Are you feeling better now?”  
“Y-yes.” Deniss could see his armchair was turned slightly, and the man was on one knee in front of the chair, with both hands on the armrest to stabilize it, preventing him from falling down. “I’m fine.”  
“Do you want anything to drink?”Chris asked, “Some sugar?”  
Deniss bit his lips, “No, I’m good…”he exhaled and dropped his head, “It still comes back.”  
Chris knew what ‘it’ refers to. “Do you need someone to talk to?” The young man’s figure overlapped with someone else in his memory, “I mean, you can always come to me. But if you need some professional help, I’m sure Carolina is there to listen. Don’t worry too much. It’s normal.”  
“I have an appointment with her later today.” Deniss pushed his hair back, “I’ll be fine. It was just a moment.” He looked at the clock on the desk, and only three minutes had passed.  
“And...”Deniss hesitated, “I’m not sure if I should tell you about what happened?”  
Chris looked at the young man for a second, and dragged his own chair to sit closer to him. “Don’t push yourself too far if it was unpleasant. If saying something can make you feel better, I’m happy to listen.”  
Deniss took another deep breath. “It’s..I don’t know if I should even tell others, because it should be Stéph’s privacy. He was, um, sexually assaulted, so...I mean, I’m not saying that you may hurt him or anything, but don’t....don’t push him. Oh and!” he added quickly, “it’s not that he didn’t try to defend...no, I mean, he didn’t attempt to, because he cannot in that circumstance. But he didn’t consent to it. He didn’t. It’s violence, and they inflicted torture on him.”  
“Deniss, look.” Chris held the young man’s hand, “I know what happened to him, probably not every detail, but I have his consent to read Laura’s medical report. And I have spoken to him, although quite briefly and in Carolina’s presence. I promise I won’t. And, as you said, I know he can’t. All of you were detained, or if I may say, imprisoned. Firstly, he was tortured before that, and he simply may not have that physical strength to put on a fight. Secondly, there were a group of them, possibly armed, he’s not a Superhero with some out-of-the-world power. Any resistance could only give him more injury. I would be much happier to see him standing upright. It’s 21st century now, and anything like ‘virtue or die’ should be packed into the library’s archives. Also, being raped has nothing to do with the survivor’s virtue.”  
Deniss could almost be persuaded by the man. Almost.  
“I won’t judge him. I know sexual torture and sex itself can be a sensitive issue between partners. If I have any judgments, related to this, he’s brave and resilient. I truly respect him for that, and...” Chris sighed, “I just want to wrap him up in a fluffy blanket and hug him. But Laura will chase me out of her medical wing if she didn’t declare it’s alright. Also, thank you for caring for him. I’m not sure if you had the chance to sneak in and meet him? He said he’s very proud of you.”  
“What-did he?” Deniss couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t be true. He almost failed the mission-his first independent mission-and dragged two other innocent people into the hurricane. How can the person who suffered because of him say that he was proud of him?  
“He told me.” Chris smiled, “It seems that you’re too afraid of being caught by Laura. She’s allowing visitors now.”  
Deniss swallowed hard. “I’ve not met him yet..I don’t know how to..I just watched everything happen.”  
Chris slowly placed a palm on the young man’s shoulder and pulled him in closer, “Deniss. There’re many things you can’t do, and it’s not your fault. Not anyone’s fault. I’ve watched something happen as well, although I can’t tell you yet. Don’t beat yourself up for it. He’s recovering, both physically and mentally, and he’s never blamed you for anything, as much as I know. From what he told me,” Chris took some tissue paper and gently wiped off the tears on the young man’s face, “you’re brave and resilient as well. And you’re smart enough to react to his plan and calm enough to help with his injuries. Professionally you’ll be a great agent. Personally, you’re a loyal friend. If I might say, I’m proud of you as well.”  
Deniss could not hold it anymore.


	6. Come to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the medical wing discharged Stephane and he returned home with Chris.  
The concept of post-exposure prophylaxis and safe sex might not be accurate. Please consult a health professional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentioned past rape/mentioned post-exposure prophylaxis.  
（But it's generally a fluffy casual chat at home between partners）

Stéphane was beaming with energy on their way home. He hummed along with the music played in the car (even when the Carmen Prelude was played), moving to its beats with his seat belt on. Chris couldn’t help but smile with relief. Stéphane is back.  
He cheered when Chris unlocked the door of their apartment and made a beeline to the sofa, threw himself onto it and grabbed his favourite cushion with a ladybug print. He sighed with contentment and held it close to his chest, while their cat Wonka mewed and walked out of her little tent to see what was happening.  
Chris closed the door behind him, patted Wonka on her back. “Stéph’s home, Wonka.”  
She lifted her body and saw Stéphane lying on the long sofa. She jumped onto him to welcome him back, but flinched away when Stéphane tried to poke her chin.  
“I always wonder why she still likes you.” Chris sat down next to Stéphane, “and why she hasn’t scratched you.”  
“Because I always remember to put some cat treat in her plate.” Stéphane answered and moved slightly to place his head on Chris’s lap, “I hope you didn’t deprive her of that in the past month.”  
Chris gently stroked his lover’s soft curls, “Now I know why she’s constantly gaining weight. Is Deniss back to his mission?”  
Stéphane nodded, “He is. Carolina said he’s fine, although he still has some flashbacks and nightmares-which is perfectly normal.”  
“So he knows about your chip?”Chris looked down on Stéphane’s wrist, “He came to my office and asked about it the other day.”  
“He does.” Stéphane yawned and threw away his cushion, “He was suspicious about it when I refused him to put bandages on my wrist. And he accidentally saw me tapping it one evening. I couldn’t lie to him in that circumstance. He..well, everyone needs some hope.”  
Chris held his lover’s wrist and kissed it. “It’s lucky that the removal was cancelled 9 years ago. Otherwise…”He trailed off, refusing to imagine what could happen.  
Stéphane laughed. “Be gentle with it. If another message is sent to the system, I don’t know who’s on call tonight in your department, he or she will hate you for it.”  
Chris released his wrist and raised both arms in a surrender posture, “I think it’s Lizzy again. I can imagine how she would react to that message.”  
“Which could totally ruin your reputation?” Stéphane grinned, “I’m not saying that you have any good ones to begin with.”  
“I have perfectly fine ones, thank you.” Chris lightly smacked his lover’s upper arm and joked, “Unlike you.”  
“That’s really sad to hear.” Stéphane pouted for a second but soon bursted to laughter, “No, I don’t care about it. As long as you know.”  
“I know.” Chris repeated softly and bowed down to kiss him, but Stéphane put a finger between their mouths before their lips touch.  
“Laura put me on PEP, and my results came back clean today. But the window period has not passed yet.” Stéphane said, “Don’t take any risks.”  
Chris sighed and took his hand, “How long do I need to wait before I can kiss you again?”  
“Ideally 3 months. She didn’t say abstinence though. Fully protected sex is allowed, but as for kissing…”he blinked, “The only protection I know is a pocket mask. I don’t think it can be called a kiss if it’s there.”  
Chris blushed, “No, I’m not thinking about it now, after what you’ve…I should arrange a rescue mission earlier.”  
Stéphane sat up and wrapped his arm around Chris’s waist, lightly shook him and looked into his blue eyes, “Hey, I’m here, alive and recovered. If Salome is out on the field and Peter is in the HQ at midnight, I know how hard the rescue is.” He laced their fingers together, “And you know that I know how to deal with it, you’ve seen my full training records. You should really worry more for the boys.”  
Chris forced a laugh and squeezed his hand tightly. “What I know is that any training here does not include how to deal with a sexual abuse.”  
“Hmm.” Stéphane raised his brows, “It’s called transferrable skills. I hope you’ve told the trainees in your department?”  
Chris did not respond. Stéphane waited a minute, and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thank you for the chip. It saved me twice, plus two others.”  
Chris slowly relaxed in his lover’s arms, “Anything, mon chéri. But Deniss-I don’t know if he talked to you about it-worries a lot about it. About your privacy.”  
Stéphane laughed. “I need to assure him that we don’t commonly use it for active agents. We won’t track him down and stalk him when he’s dating a girl-or a boy, when he comes back from the field.”  
“And he will dig out your profile and every report from the day you started training, to figure out why we put one on you.” Chris pointed out, “Once he has access to these data.”  
“Urgh.” Stéphane whined, “No.”  
Chris couldn’t hide his grin, “You do have some questionable early records, but you’re also the person whom Deniss quoted on his application statement. You’re Prometheus.”  
Stéphane buried his face in his palms, “That’s precisely the reason I hate to think about Deniss being able to access it. I don’t think his world will ever be the same.”


	7. Bring Him Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A comfort sex/sex therapy.  
The use of sex therapy to help one recover from the consequence of rape is a quite controversial method, although I've read some research/books about this. Please consult a professional if you need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Past rape/Anal Sex

“Are you sure you actually want it?” Chris asked with concern, “you know, it’s not like I have to wait for the window period to pass or anything. You don’t have to make up for it. Especially when Laura warned us of possible flashbacks and triggers.”*  
Stéphane was subconsciously holding on to their sheets. “No, I mean, I’m still quite nervous just thinking of this. But I want it, and I need it, to tell myself that I’m back and safe. And the whole thing about having sex does not mean anything bad.” He finally sighed and released their poor wrinkled sheets, “I know it really sounds like I’m using you as some therapeutic tool. But that might be the only way.”  
“Don’t say that.” Chris carefully placed his arm around Stéphane’s upper back and clearly felt him shuddering, “I’m glad that I can help a little bit. Tell me if there’s any discomfort, or if you just want me to stop.”  
Stéphane slowly leaned into his arms, “I will. Come, before it gets late. I still want to sleep tonight.”  
Chris helped his lover to lie down on the bed, “How do you want me to…? I mean, I don’t know..”  
Stéphane covered his eyes with wrist, “To be honest, I don’t know either. Mind is something…intricate and sophisticated. Probably we can...see how it goes?”  
“Sure.” Chris dropped a light kiss on his forehead, “do you want to start now?”  
Stéphane nodded, turned to his side and undid his dressing gown. Chris could clearly see him hesitating and tensing up when he exposed himself to the air, but he tried to regulate his breaths and gradually relaxed. He bent both legs and reached an arm behind, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.”  
Chris immediately held his hands and laced their fingers together, lied down behind him and pulled him into a gentle but firm hug. “Mon chéri, I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” Chris whispered while placing little kisses on his shoulders and upper back, and tried to caress him.   
Stéphane turned stiff and his breath hitched when Chris’s fingertip lightly brushed between his thighs. Chris suddenly became overwhelmingly angry-not at Stéphane, of course, but at those people who had hurt his lover. And probably himself.  
He had never felt such anger since he received the SOS message from Stéphane three months ago. Surely, there were worries when the red SOS box popped up on his screen; there were anxieties when he entered lines and lines of codes and commands into the system, waited for Stéphane’s replies and drew up the rescue plan with Peter and Salome; there was relief when he kicked the door open and saw Stéphane standing there with a pistol in his left hand, smiling.  
Stéphane was almost always very open to sex. He’s never shy about it, and was more than happy to admit that he enjoyed having sex with his partner. Of course, Chris had seen Laura’s medical report following the rescue which accounted for all the injuries and wounds, but he still could not imagine what Stéphane had encountered in those five days, that made him flinching away subconsciously with the slightest touch.  
And he still looked so positive. Chris thought of the first day when Laura discharged Stéphane from the medical wing, when Stéphane was trying to comfort him and telling him that he’s fine. What had he packed and hidden away under his façade of bravery and optimism?  
“Chris?” Stéphane turned to face him, “Are you all right?”  
“What…” Chris was suddenly pulled back to reality and saw Stéphane’s brown eyes, filled with concern. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just thinking of… something.”  
Stéphane pressed his forehead to his lover’s chest, “I can feel you are…angry? Probably not because of me, I hope? What’s in your mind?”  
Chris looked into the abstract design on their dark blue curtain, “No, it’s…it’s great that you’re here. I just can’t imagine if…”  
Stéphane gave him a very low laugh, “Stop thinking about ‘if’s. I have a session with Emmi, Diana and Matilda tomorrow morning, and I really need some sleep tonight.”  
“Right.” Chris opened the bottle of lube and warmed up some liquid in his palm, “Is this position fine for you?”  
“Um-Hmm.” Stéphane hummed and crossed his left leg onto Chris’s waist while squeezing his right leg in between Chris’s, entwining their limbs, “it’s good.”  
Chris smeared some warm liquid onto his lover and slowly pressed a finger into him, while repeatedly stroking from his nape to lower back with another palm. At least he seemed fine now, he was even humming to a song which Chris could not identify.  
“What’s that song?” Chris asked while gently turning his finger inside, “Don’t tell me it’s Britney. I’ve had enough of her.” Probably chatting could distract him from unavoidable discomforts, he thought.  
“I don’t know.” Stéphane smiled, “the music search engine in my brain isn’t working now. A piece of totally original music, maybe?”  
Chris added another finger and waited for his lover’s body to get used to them, “I’ve never realized that you want to be a songwriter.”  
“You’ll never know.” Stéphane continued his random humming, “I mean, looking back now, I can’t believe the person who had the highest grade in combat and shooting would choose to work in Communications. Do you know how shocked Deniss and Koshiro were when they saw you leading the team?”  
“It’s just more interesting to me.” Chris moved his fingers in and out, trying to find the point he used to know. Luckily his memory was not failing him after three months.  
Everything continued when they ceased talking, but Stéphane was still insisting in composing his melody-or lack thereof-and tapping his fingers to mark the beats on Chris’s shoulder.  
“I think it’s fine,” Stéphane moved his hip slightly and tried to squeeze and relax, “that’s what we usually do, right? Three fingers? I’m not more, um, fragile than before. And prolonging this doesn’t really add to anything.”  
Chris nodded and slowly retrived his fingers. “That’s an extremely challenging position.” He made a hand gesture, “I don’t think we can reach it as…normal human beings?”  
Stéphane bursted into laughter and turned again to face away from him, “I’ve been suspecting you’re not one from day 1 of training.”  
“Elaborate on your statement?” Chris held him in both arms while slowly pressed in.  
Stéphane was taking deep breaths to relax. “Highest grade in almost every course, learning every new skill so quickly, almost always rational and calm. And…” He moved slightly to signal that he’s fine and pinned Chris’s hands to his chest, “astonishingly beautiful.”  
Chris smiled, “What can I do to prove that I’m a human then?”  
“It doesn’t matter.” Stéphane murmured while responding to his lover’s movements, “I don’t really care who you are…wait, no, that doesn’t sound right. You know what I mean.”  
Chris held him even tighter, “Yes, I know.”

“Chris.” Stéphane’s eyes were tightly shut, “Chris.”  
Chris noticed that Stéphane’s voice was a little shaky, so he stopped and leaned over to check on him. “Yes, mon chéri?”  
There’s so much tension in his torso, Chris realized. He was holding his lover at chest level, and was not aware of that earlier. And he’s trying to control his breathing.  
“Stéph?” Chris called him by name, “are you alright? Do you need me to stop?”  
Stéphane took a few more deep breaths and opened his eyes, “No, don’t. But can we change the position? I just need to…”He swallowed abruptly, “see you and hold you.”  
“Surely we can.” Chris moved out and helped Stéphane to lie on his back, “Is that okay?”  
Stéphane nodded and immediately wrapped his arms around Chris’s shoulders, “Yes.”  
Chris kissed his lips, brushed on his teeth with the tip of tongue and waited until he relaxed and responded to the kiss. Stéphane was not as passionate in the kiss as he would be before-he’s more gentle and soft now-but Chris couldn’t ask for more. His lover was brave enough just by facing his fears.  
Stéphane raised his legs and wrapped them around Chris, tapping his heels lightly for a few times on his lover’s lower back. “You’ll become tired soon if you insist to prop yourself up at elbow.” He smiled, “Hold me down, don’t worry. I know the atmosphere around you. And some skin contact would be great.”  
Chris grabbed a pillow and sneaked it below his lover’s lower back, before slowly lowered himself down and put his weight on Stéphane. Stéphane sighed with contentment when he felt his lover’s full weight.  
“Come.” He said, “Otherwise, I have another reason to suspect that you’re not a human. I don’t think any man can stop in the middle of sexual intercourse-when he’s clearly aroused-for such a long time and still be rational.”  
Chris kissed him and pressed in again, “If you suspect that I’m a robot, and in order to make your statement valid,” he rocked his hips and started to thrust into his lover, “you need to define what it means to arouse a robot.”  
Stéphane laughed and moved with him, “I can’t. That’s your field.”  
Chris looked into Stéphane’s brown eyes. He can see that his lover was beaming, and his eyes were shining with happiness almost like a child. He couldn’t help but to cover those eyes with his lips.  
Their bodies still fit perfectly. They still know each other’s rhythm. And they still know what each other like.

“Is it alright?” Chris asked as he wiped both of them clean with tissue paper, “Any pain? Discomfort?”  
Stéphane shook his head, “No. It’s perfect.” He opened his eyes and looked up, “Thanks, mon chéri.”  
“Anything.” Chris flipped his wrist and threw the ball of paper into the bin at the far end of their bedroom, “Do you want to take a shower now? Or a bath?”  
Stéphane yawned, “Can I leave it until tomorrow morning? I’ll be able to get to work on time if I can get up by seven…”He reached to his phone on the nightstand, “I need to set an alarm.”  
Chris took his phone from his hand, unlocked it and set three alarms, “Done. I’ll drag you away from the bed if you can’t get up.” He lied down beside his lover, cuddled him and kissed his forehead, “Sweet dreams, my love.”


	8. A Little Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Deniss found his mentor's mission records.

Deniss logged on to the system and entered his mentor’s name into the search query, like what he had been doing everyday this week.  
Six months ago, Chris told him that some documents were due to be released this month. Just from a little bit of calculation, it’s easy to track the time back and find the event-or mission-which took place, to be more accurate, which ended, in March 2010.  
It’s Project Geneve, the Project which inspired Deniss to write a personal statement and send his CV to the Intelligence Service, immediately following his graduation from lower secondary school.  
My mentor was involved in the Project, Deniss thought, what did he do then? His curiosity had been torturing him for half a year, until today.  
As usual, he clicked on his mentor’s personal record. The photo, personal information and…  
Deniss scrolled down. On the last line of his personal information, a new alias appeared.  
“Alias used in the past: Prometheus.”  
Prometheus.  
The project and its main achievements were disclosed to the public soon after its completion, and everyone with some access to modern media would know of it, together with the agent who went undercover for three years. Even after his identity was leaked, the Intelligent Service made use of all the information he had sent back to the headquarters and cracked the terrorism organization.  
But Prometheus should be dead. There were reports about the failed rescue.  
Maybe it’s just a coincidence, and maybe they recycle alias? If the hero Prometheus was killed in 2008, there’re still two more years before the completion of the project.  
He scrolled down all the way to the Mission Record segment. Deniss remembered that it was a blank page when he was first enrolled in the training programme. He thought his mentor didn’t do much in the past, and was probably never active in operations. But he was a good mentor, so it’s not that important.  
It was until they were kidnapped by his targets, when Deniss saw the scars on Stéphane’s skin when he was tending to his mentor’s injuries. His calmness and resilience, both physical and mental, surprised the young agent. You can learn all the skills in training, but could only truly acquire these if you had experienced them. In other words, Stéphane must be an active agent in the past and very likely had taken part in some difficult missions.   
Deniss rubbed his eyes and clicked on the attachment under Mission Records.  
“Project Geneve, 2005-2008. The agent went undercover……”  
It’s him.  
“An identity leak occurred in early 2008 when the agent was taken captive and endured interrogative torture. The first rescue mission failed due to a signal screening. A second rescue, lead by Hercules, was attempted when the agent was transferred to the seashore, where execution was believed to happen. The rescue is successful. Medical report following the rescue is attached.  
Prometheus worked with the Intelligence and Communications Departments during his rehabilitation. After Mission Olympus, he decided to retire from active field work, citing recurring injury. The application was approved. He was moved to Training Department as a Deputy Chief Mentor, changing his alias to Dionysus.”  
Deniss hesitated but didn’t continue to look at the medical report. He had read the report following his own mission. He still remembered how serious Stéphane’s injury was, but it only appeared to be a few lines on the medical summary. He couldn’t imagine what it was like twelve years ago.  
Deniss took a few deep breaths, logged off from the system and took the elevator up to the Training Department.  
“Hey, Deniss.” Anna waved to him as he walked in, “Looking for Stéph?”  
“Oh, hello, Anna….” Deniss replied awkwardly. Everyone in the department knew him, and knew that if he appeared on the 14th floor, he would be looking for his mentor, 99% of the times. “Um, yes.”  
The lady smiled, “He’s not here now. You can leave a message in his pidge, or if it’s urgent, try downstairs.”  
Deniss thanked her and pressed ‘-2’ on the elevator panel. For them, ‘downstairs’ refers to the underground indoors training centre, comprised of a shooting field, a computer lab, a few lecture rooms and a multi-functional room which is often used for combat training.  
He scanned his fingerprint and found Koshiro’s name in the system’s entries. Koshiro borrowed a pistol from the storage, so he must be in the shooting field. Probably Stéphane as well.  
It’s not very common for mentors to keep an eye on the trainee’s basic training sessions, especially for someone in their last year like Koshiro, who will soon take his qualification exams. But Stéphane does.  
Deniss stopped outside a soundproof door as he saw Koshiro and Stéphane inside. Koshiro was doing a practice round, but with his left hand.  
Deniss smiled. He used to be trying that too, after seeing Stéphane shooting with his left hand. Stéphane’s right-hand skills were just passable for a professional operation agent, but the ambidexterity is absolutely rare.   
Koshiro took off his ear protection, looking disappointed. Deniss couldn’t stop grinning, because he was disappointed with his own non-dominant hand skills a few years ago.  
Stéphane laughed so hard that he leaned onto Koshiro’s shoulder, and took the boy’s pistol a moment later. Deniss could almost imagine his mentor’s laughter. Sometimes it’s just hard to believe that he was a man in his mid-thirties, and now, it’s even harder to believe that he was the one legendary agent.  
Stéphane held both Koshiro’s pistol and his own, asked the boy to put on ear protection, and pulled the triggers almost simultaneously.  
Koshiro made a face and turned slightly, probably whined “No---!” before he saw Deniss outside. The boy happily ran to open the door and let Deniss in.   
“Hi.” Deniss rubbed his nose, “I didn’t want to disturb you. How’s the exam preparation going on?”  
Koshiro stuck his tongue out, “Fine, I guess. As long as I don’t attempt to shoot with my left hand, I should be able to pass.”  
“Don’t worry,” Deniss pinched Koshiro’s both ears lightly, “and don’t learn that from Stéph. I’ve tried it and never gotten a total of more than 40.”  
The Asian boy looked at Deniss and gave him a knowing grin a moment later. “I’ll be revising Encryption Theory with Camden in the library later. See you later! And bye, Stéph.” He dodged Deniss’ hand which was aiming for his hair and moved swiftly outside, waved them goodbye with a big but naughty smile.  
“Such a child,” Deniss commented as the boy walked away with some little jumps.   
“You’re only twenty this year.” Stéphane put his pistol back in the holder, “Looking for me?”  
Deniss looked away. “Um, yes. I’m just wondering how’s…” he subconsciously stared at Stéphane’s right wrist. It was covered under the cuff of his shirt.  
“Chris finally decided to tell you..? Wait, no, it’s March now.” Stéphane took off his watch and showed the faint scar to Deniss, “Speaking of the implant, it’s fine. Chris also asked me to assure you that we don’t normally put one on every agent, and we’ll never use it to track anyone down when they’re dating a boy or a girl.”  
Deniss stared at his wrist. That’s such a lighthearted joke, but everything he just read on the system still lingered.   
A failed rescue. An attempted execution. Interrogative tortures. The uneven scars on his skin. His recurring knee injury.  
His mentor was only 23 then, and was even younger than he is now when the project was assigned.  
“Deniss.” Stéphane took his student’s hand, “Are you okay?”  
Deniss nodded but bit his lips, “Yeah, I am…I just need time to process.”  
“Chris dropped you a few hints before, but I’m not sure if you looked into it today. Don’t worry about privacy.” Stéphane said with a gentle voice, “Even though it’s active, and even if I send a SOS signal, assessing the precise location required either Peter’s signature or Chris’s code. I really don’t mind them knowing where I am, even if it’s not an emergency.” Stéphane shrugged, “And it’s really handy.”  
Deniss sighed. “I’ve never heard about it before. Were you the only one carrying it?”  
Stéphane pondered for a moment, “As far as I know, I’m the first one to use it. There might be some other people using the chip, not necessarily as an implant. It could be in their watches, phones, or…anything. It’s a very clever and versatile design.” He smiled as recalling the days when Chris was writing lines and lines of codes for it.  
“Did Chris design it?” Deniss sensed something under Stéphane’s smile, “Great teamwork.”  
Stéphane laughed. “Testing a new product on his boyfriend.”  
“You-you were in a relationship since then?” Deniss opened his eyes wide in disbelief, “How long has it….15 years?” He looked at Stéphane and saw his mentor blushing, “Oh my god. When will your 10-year anniversary party be? Have I missed it and have to wait for the 15th year one?”  
“Well, we’re not married.” Stéphane coughed, “but yes, since then, probably even earlier.”  
Deniss jumped and waved his arms, “Whaaaaat? I’ve been thinking that you were married from the first week of training! I thought you can’t wear a ring because of work!”  
Stéphane covered his face with both hands, “Urgh, I don’t know why neither of us have ever thought about proposing. It just, has never come across my mind? You know what I mean?”  
Deniss rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, thanks. I’ve never been in a relationship.”  
“Probably I should.” Stéphane tapped his fingertips on the tablet holder just beside the shooting line, “I hope it’s not too late.”  
“The thought of ‘probably you can’t marry for professional reasons’ just crossed my mind.” Deniss commented, “Luckily it’s not true. Otherwise I’ll need to write to the welfare committee.”  
Stéphane followed him and locked the door of training room, “Being the head of department is not equal to not having a family.”


	9. A Heart Full of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stephane finally proposed to his boyfriend during their annual Christmas Ball.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Carolina clapped her hands and raised her Champaign flute, “it’s now 11.50pm, we are 10 minutes away from the Christmas. Let’s raise our glass and drink to the festive time, the coming new year, the colleagues, families and friends around us, and those who have left us and yet will always remain in our hearts.” She downed her drink and said, “Santé.”  
Everyone in the room picked up a glass from the long tables around, “Santé.”  
“And now,” Carolina waited until most people had set down their glass, “it’s time for our last dance! This year, we chose slow waltz, a classic and timeless dance. And the music is-“she put down the microphone and raised her arms high, “drum roll?”  
There wasn’t much response from the crowd.  
“Urgh, it seems like you don’t like slow waltz? Did everyone work too much with the MI6 this year? Anyways, the music is A Time For Us, from Romeo and Juliette. Now get moving and find your partner!”  
Chris walked to Stéphane. Stéphane was no doubt one of the most popular dancers in their Christmas Eve balls, but they’d been saving the last dance for each other for a long time. Except last year, when Maxim was in charge and chose Argentine Tango, turning the whole ball in to a mess.   
The music started. Stéphane let Chris take the lead, as they would usually do. That was partly because of their height difference, but also partly because Stéphane had the ability to follow any steps and turns.  
He had lost too much weight from the incident earlier this year. Chris thought as he put his palm around Stéphane’s waist and felt the empty space between his tailcoat and his body. This tailcoat was well-fitted last year.  
“I won’t stop and leave if you step on me,” Stéphane noticed that Chris was distracted, “but at least respect Carolina’s music choice? It’s one of my favorite waltz pieces.”  
“No, I like it, but I was...”Chris subconsciously pressed and held Stéphane closer to him.  
Stéphane raised his brows, “Hmm?”  
“...thinking about who we should invite and what to cook for New Year’s Eve. Surely I need to order a Tiramisu from Deniss.”   
Stéphane winked, “I would give two votes in favor of your proposal. “  
Waltz is known as a closed position dance. It was almost an embrace, while they could feel each other’s breaths.  
“I really love slow waltz.” Stéphane whispered, “it’s...smooth and gentle. Like some kind of silk.”  
Chris grinned, “That’s not what you would say if you’ve had some more drinks. You were drinking sparkling water tonight, except the last toast. Did Laura put you on any medication and ask you to refrain from drinking? Did those injuries..?”  
Stéphane interrupted him, “No, not Laura. I...”he blinked and looked away, “have something important to do later. I’d better do it with full consciousness.”  
“A new mission?” Chris frowned, “I know you always do last-minute preparation, but..”  
“A mission, yes.” Stéphane interrupted again-which is very uncommon-“but no, I’m not going to the field. When my documents say I’m retired, then I am. It’s something...personal. I promise I won’t keep secrets from you unnecessarily, you’ll know later. Very soon.”  
Chris led a quick turn to avoid colliding with Javier and Liza, “you don’t have to confess everything. But if anything bothers you, I’m always here to listen.”  
He was quite sure that Stéphane smiled, judging from the fine lines around the corner of his eyes.  
As the music came to an end, Carolina dragged her partner to the front and grabbed the microphone again, “That’s the end of this year’s Christmas ball! Thank you for coming, anyone who’s free later tonight can go to the bar for the party! Merry Christmas and happy New-what?” She exclaimed in surprise, “I hope my eyes are not failing me?”  
The crowd turned to where she pointed. Stéphane was on one knee in front of Chris, his black tailcoat spreading on the floor. He said with a low voice, but enough for his long-time lover and dance partner to hear: “I didn’t realize this, until Deniss mentioned it occasionally. Having been through all this years, have you ever thought...”he looked up, “will you marry me?”  
Not everyone could hear what he said, but the posture is enough for anyone with common sense to decipher.  
“What?” Brian shouted first, “You two are not married?”  
Chris felt something hard but warm in his palm. He didn’t know how Stéphane managed to slip the ring in between their palms, as he was sure that he didn’t feel anything during the waltz, and Stéphane had not released their hold after it. He might actually be a magician.  
“No, not yet.” Chris could almost felt Stéphane’s hand turning stiff for a moment, “but I don’t know why I’ve not thought about it earlier.” He pulled on Stéphane’s arm and brought him into a tight embrace, “I will.   
They heard people cheering, and someone was pushing them. They didn’t know what’s happening, or maybe they couldn’t even care.  
“Now you can kiss!” Maxim shouted into their ears.  
“Wait, Max,” Stéphane turned to one of his best friends, “I’m sure this line should be reserved for the actual wedding-“  
“You’re under the mistletoe!” Tatiana pulled down a strand of green vine, “It’s mandatory to kiss!”  
Chris smiled and whispered to his lover-and-fiancé, “Permettez-vous?”  
“Donc...”Stéphane slipped the ring onto Chris’s finger, “Oui, s’il vous plaît.”  
Their lips pressed together in a long but chaste kiss. There’s nothing about lust and nothing aggressive, but more of relief and comfort. They had and would always have each other.  
“That’s not enough!” Maxim shouted again, “You know what we would like as a Christmas surprise!”  
“But we would like to keep the rest private,” Stéphane pushed Maxim away laughingly, “and-wait, you’re married. Deniss?” He looked around and saw Deniss leaning on the wall, typing away quickly. “Deniss!”  
“What?” Deniss finally looked up, “Stéph?”  
“Well, I hope you’re not playing games on your phone just now?”  
“No,” Deniss raised his phone and presented the screen to Stéphane, “I was messaging Koshiro. What a shame that he’s a few months to 18 and can’t attend this ball.”  
“Deniss.” Chris turned and wrapped an arm around Stéphane’s waist, “Would you be our best man? Since it’s you who reminded us of this...whole thing.”  
Deniss jumped in surprise, “Yes! So I can finally produce a speech to sabotage you?”  
“Sure, if you would remember all the confidentiality terms.”  
Carolina picked up a fork and struck her Champaign flute a few times to get the crowd’s attention, “Now for this time, can we add an extra dance to celebrate our newly-engaged couple? It’s...” she scrolled down on her phone’s playlist, “Let’s do a tango! Find your partners and dance away!”  
“Shall we?” Stéphane asked with a gentle voice, “luckily it’s not an Argentine tango.”  
Chris made a face, “I can’t really do tango, but I can’t say no.” He placed a hand on Stéphane’s shoulder, “lead me.”


	10. Love's not Time's Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet wedding night.  
The title is adapted from Sonnet 116.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Anal sex

They walked home all the way from Ouchy in their formal dress: double-breasted suit jackets, and black bow-ties. Not as formal as what they’d wear in Christmas Balls, but still somewhat unusual in the early summer.  
They didn’t talk much on their way back. They’ve done quite a lot of talking to all their guests, family and close friends, and it’s time for themselves now. They could stroll down the quiet street side-by-side, close enough to feel the other’s presence but not touching. They could keep silence without feeling awkward. They could go back to their home, the little apartment where they lived. It wouldn’t be scattered with rose petals and sprayed with sweet fragrances like what the couples would normally get if they’ve chosen to stay in a hotel after their wedding, but it’s where they could truly relax.  
Stéphane held his lover’s hand when they were close to the little hilly street. Chris smiled, and gave him a slight squeeze. Both of them can feel the new accessories on their ring fingers, their wedding rings.  
They walked past the metro station, the book shop, the Chinese restaurant and the pizzeria, before climbing a few flights of stairs and opening their door. Everything was the same as this morning, but everything felt different.  
The coffee mugs they used this morning were still on the drying rack, the books they’ve read last evening was casually placed on the coffee table, and their bed was not made, as they were too busy to find all the pieces of formal clothing they’d need for the day in the morning.  
“It still felt like a dream.” Stéphane commented when they were helping each other to untie the bowtie, “Nothing has changed, but everything seems that it’s changed.”  
“To be honest,” Chris took both of their jackets and hanged them on the rack, “in a typical wedding-don’t criticize me for my outdated opinion-the bride and groom get dressed and ready in separate rooms, with bridesmaids and ushers respectively. We didn’t even have two separate groups of attendants, and we helped each other with the bowtie this morning. ”  
Stéphane laughed behind him. “I can fully understand why Brian was so shocked when he knew we were not yet married in the Ball. But I still can’t believe Deniss decided to add this part into his speech, ‘I thought they’ve been married since the first time I’ve met them’?”  
Chris kissed his lover on the forehead, “I thought you’ll comment on ‘I see both of them as my mentors, or-I have no intention to comment on their age-the father figures in the past few years.’”  
Stéphane tried to make a serious and stern face, “I have quite a few issues to discuss with him in the speech. But he told me secretly that Carolina’s planning something with Max and Tanya, probably with some other people from our departments, so I just decided not to fail him.”  
“Planning for?” Chris asked while Stéphane walked into the kitchen to get some water, “Carolina sounds fine, but Max and Tanya…I can smell conspiracy there.”  
“He didn’t tell me exactly. Carolina only told him that they’ll meet at hers tomorrow morning, in ‘casual attire suitable for a park outing’ and bring a change of clothes. I hope they don’t break in here and spray water or any paint for celebration.” Stéphane rolled his eyes, “It’s not a brand new apartment, but it’s fine. I don’t want a renovation.”  
“What a shame that you can’t fail him anymore now.” Chris took off his cufflinks, “I think I need a shower first. Wearing black tie in summer, even in the evenings, is not the most comfortable thing in the world.”  
Stéphane smiled as Chris walked to the bathroom, “It’s good for the ladies, but terrible for the men.”

Both of them decided to wear pajamas to the bed, something unusual in the summer. They didn’t mind it when they first moved in as only roommates, since both of them are males, and summers in Lausanne can be quite hot; as their relationship become closer and more intimate, they see no point in dressing decently at home. But tonight is probably different.  
Chris put his book down when Stéphane walked in to the bedroom and sat down on their bed. They kissed again, in a more intimate and passionate way. “Do you want to celebrate today, I mean, personally?” Chris asked.  
“’Personally’ is a strange world choice.” Stéphane grinned, “Now, tell me, did you actually read that book just now?”  
“I did. One page, to be more precise, one paragraph.” Chris glanced at the book, “I’m almost starting to wonder why I suddenly show signs of dyslexia*.”  
Stéphane laughed and held his lover in his arms, “I hope reading and writing papers a few years ago were not that difficult. And yes.”  
Chris slowly lied down on the bed while keeping Stéphane on top of him, “And, do you want to…?”  
Stéphane raised his brows to wait for the last word, but Chris didn’t say anything more. He chuckled when he noticed that his lover was blushing and understood all. “I don’t even want to count how many times we’ve had it, and how long we’ve been together. Also, you weren’t that shy before. Et…oui, si vous me permettez.*”  
Chris touched his lover’s cheek with fingertips, “Call it the magic spell of wedding.”  
Their lips pressed together as they proceeded to undress each other. That’s probably why they chose to wear something more tonight, as it almost felt like a marriage ritual.  
“Sometimes I wonder,” Stéphane stared at the little pile of their nightwear on the side, “You know there’s all these white and lacy ‘bridal lingeries’? Do men have any equivalents for their wedding days?”  
Chris laughed, “From your description, I certainly see a great deal of general knowledge. I doubt there are any equivalents for men, but if you’re bored of your job now and want to do something creative, I would support your ideas.” He moved his hip slightly, “Considering that you possibly didn’t want to be steamed or poached in the dress shirt anymore earlier, I’ve not done the preparation in the bathroom. It seems that you’ll need to do some more work before it.”  
Stéphane found their lubricant and condom in the drawer, “I would say that’s a part of it, and a very good part. Nothing’s better than the gradual build-up of passion.” He dropped a kiss on his lover’s chest and held his ankles in both hands, “Would you spread them for me?”  
Chris did as he said, and lifted his hips as Stéphane placed a soft pillow under it. “It’s summer now. Don’t worry.” He whispered as Stéphane was trying to warm up the liquid in his palm.  
“See, I have no idea how you could accuse me of being impatient.” Stéphane complained with a grin, “Right, just relax and enjoy now. I’ll take care of you.”  
They didn’t talk much afterwards, besides occasionally confirming if it’s alright to proceed. Chris hadn’t usually bottomed in recent years, and Stéphane took great care to make sure that he goes gently and slowly, without bringing too much discomfort. Light kisses were dropped pretty randomly onto his lover’s soft skin, with gentle caresses on the areas which would best please his lover. It’s true that they might not find it as exciting as the new couples who were not used to each other, but they knew what each other likes. They were familiar with it, but there was always also something fresh and new each time. They’ve had many pleasant surprises, and also many funny fails which made them laugh together in each other’s arms.  
Chris held his lover close when he slowly pressed in. The sensation wasn’t completely new, but it was some distant memory. There was a slight discomfort, but also a strange feeling of contentment.  
“Is it alright?” Stéphane asked with concern, “Do you need a minute or two?”  
Chris nodded, “Probably. It had been sometime.”  
Stéphane smiled and kissed him. “Take your time. And it’s okay if it doesn’t work out, don’t push yourself.”  
Chris looked into his lover’s dark brown eyes and saw himself there. “To be fair, I don’t think you’re that bad at it. Have some confidence.”  
“I’m sure that’s not the best thing to tell your partner on the nuptial bed.” Stéphane pinched his lover’s cheek, “One more chance.”  
Chris suddenly fell into silence when his fingertips brushed against some uneven skin parts, the scars on Stéphane’s upper back. He held his lover even tighter and closed his eyes, trying to touch each one. He couldn’t even remember when and how his lover got each one from.  
“Chris?” Stéphane called his name, “Is everything alright? Is it too much? It’s totally fine if you need me to stop. Not having a good sex and stopping halfway is far better than having a terrible one and enduring it all the way through.”  
“No, actually you can continue…It’s not bad, but just, um, unfamiliar?” Chris reassured him, “I will tell you if it’s not. I’m just thinking,” He slipped a hand between their chests and felt both of their heartbeats, “how lucky we are to go through all these years and…to be here. Right now.”  
Stéphane realized what Chris was thinking about. He started to make small moves while carefully observed his lover to see if there’s any sign of discomfort. Luckily, Chris didn’t lie about how he was feeling. He seemed to gradually get used to the sensation and start to enjoy the moment, judging from the sweet noises and the hint of smile lingering on the corner of his lips. Stéphane kissed him, with all the passion but also care and tenderness. Chris responded to it with affection and devotion, like another marriage vow.  
They’ve not only included romantic love in their formal vow this evening. They’ve also talked about friendship and professional partnership. They started from sharing course notes to sharing an apartment, from sharing a bed to sharing their lives. Their paths crossed and intertwined, eventually became inseparable. They shared laughter and sufferings, highs and lows, good and bad times.  
“Have you ever thought about…” Stéphane murmured, “…No, don’t mind. My imagination was hyperactive tonight.”  
Chris raised his brows, “What?”  
Stéphane closed his eyes, “That’s very inappropriate for wedding night. If we have never met, or if…I mean, if, something didn’t work out in the past years.”  
“If alternate universes actually exist,” Chris wrapped his legs around his lover’s waist, “That’s totally possible in one of them. I don’t know what’s in other worlds, but I know we’re extremely lucky. But it’s also possible that we, I mean, ‘they’ in the other universe have a similar life.”  
Stéphane laughed, “The theory of a science fiction fan. Have you ever had a fight with Deniss on which fictional world is better?”  
“No.” Chris made a face, “both of us agree that the world which we live is the best.”  
Stéphane smiled and lightly nibbled his lover’s collarbone. The thin layer of delicate skin soon showed a small bruise. “I can’t stop myself from leaving a mark, but leaving it on the neck is not so convenient in the summer.” He whispered, “I hope you have a top to cover that tomorrow.”  
Chris winked, “Why would I want to cover that up?” He pressed on the purplish mark, “We are married.”

It was a slow and tender night. They’ve had some frenzy nights when their passion burns like an uncontrollable fire, but making love like this is something totally different. It’s like walking into a pool of warm water, as they were slowly embraced by the soothing temperature and eventually submerged in it. Their orgasms lasted for a long time, before gradually ceased and leaving them close together in their bedroom.  
Chris pressed his lover closer when Stéphane intended to pull out. “Just a moment,” he murmured, “Let me feel you.”  
Stéphane sighed but didn’t protest too much, “You know it’s not compliant with safe sex.”  
Chris rolled his eyes. “We don’t have multiple partners and we both still have regular tests. And I won’t get pregnant.”  
Stéphane laughed and pressed his forehead against his lover’s chest, “The last argument is probably the best of the night. Have you ever imagined some universe where…?”  
Chris pressed a finger on his lips, “Stop. I have no intention to put my imagination into this kind.”  
Stéphane couldn’t stop laughing, but his ears turned bright red. Chris could feel his warm breaths on his skin.  
They moved apart when Stéphane finally calmed down, cleaned themselves with wet wipes and turned the light off. Chris could feel that his lover touched his hand and slowly laced their fingers together.  
“Je t’adore,” Stéphane whispered, “mon amour.”*  
Chris noticed the change in pronoun. He smiled and kissed his lover’s eyelid, “Moi aussi. Bonne nuit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et…oui, si vous me permettez : Yes, if you would allow me.  
Je t’adore: I love you (literally 'I adore you').   
I love to switch between vous and tu when the characters speak to each other :)  
Moi, aussi. Bonne nuit.: Me too. Good night.


	11. Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymoon smut and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Anal Sex/Some discussion on Bible  
I know that I've written too much smut when I'm tagging this before every chapter :p
> 
> The title is adapted from Sonnet 18.

He woke up with the birds singing outside their windows. It was a beautiful morning in early June, the sun shining brightly but not to glaringly in the small mountain village, his home town.  
They applied for this long vacation before their wedding ceremony. Both of them hadn’t had a proper vacation in a few years, so the application was quickly approved by Peter, their director, with a remark: “It’s great to witness your union.”  
They returned to Chris’s hometown two days after the ceremony in Lausanne. The house was still in good condition, but they expected that a lot of cleaning needed to be done before they can comfortably spend their vacation here. However, a group of colleagues who knew their plan broke into the house, cleaned and decorated it for them. Finding the address and picking the complicated lock may be hard for normal people, but not for their colleagues, a team of world-renouned agents.  
Chris smiled as he thought of the day when they drove here. Both of them could feel there’s something wrong, although everything looked perfectly normal outside. They pulled over close to the entrance instead of parking in the garden, got out of the car, hands on their pistols. And Stéphane’s phone rang. Chris quickly moved to face the house and covered Stéphane’s back while he picked up the call.  
“Caro?”  
“We wanted to give you a surprise, but you’re too vigilant. We are in your house, about 15 of us. Don’t shoot anyone on your way in. And,” Carolina chuckled, “don’t accuse us of trespassing. The mission is approved by the director, although he’s not here today.”  
They threw a party for the newly-weds in their honeymoon chalet, to ‘make up for the lack of bachelor parties before the wedding’.  
“I can’t even persuade you guys to have a bachelor party to ‘enjoy the last night of your freedom’,” Maxim complained when most of them were tipsy from all the drinks they had, (thanks to the evil Russian vodka), “Your freedom was lost like, 10 years ago. Both of you.”  
They’ve been staying in the village since then. Morning walks by the stream where Chris swam when he was a child, star gazing at night in their garden when the sky is clear, taking trains and cable cars into the mountains for a day of hiking and picnic.  
Chris stretched out his arms and opened his eyes, thinking what to do today. But Stéphane wasn’t in bed.  
He walked out of their bedroom. It’s quiet, so Stéphane couldn’t be cooking breakfast in the kitchen or taking shower in the bathroom. Chris briefly looked at their study to see if his lover was reading. No one’s sitting there. He then checked the entrance to see if Stéphane had left for a morning workout. The trainers were still there. The garden was quiet when he looked out of the window. There’s no notes left on the dining table, which Stéphane always does if he needs to leave early.  
Chris had no idea where Stéphane was, until he turned around and saw a corner of grey blanket near the sofa in their living room. He walked closer on tippy toes, and saw his lover sleeping on the sofa, his face lit by the morning sunlight.  
Stéphane wasn’t actually asleep. He smiled and extended an arm to Chris a few seconds later, “Bonjour, mon chéri.”  
“Bonjour.” Chris bowed to kiss him, “why are you sleeping here? I’m not mad at you, whatever you cooked or destroyed last evening. What do you want for breakfast?”  
Stéphane didn’t release his grip when Chris turned and took two steps towards the kitchen. “What a beautiful morning.” He murmured, “The sunlight is great here.”  
“It is.” Chris gave up his breakfast idea-they still had some fresh bread and jam anyways- “Do you want to get up and go for a walk?”  
“No.” Stéphane didn’t open his eyes, “I’m timing you.”  
Chris raised his brows, “For what?”  
“For…how long it takes before you can get my hint.” Stéphane tried to fill his voice with disappointment, “it seems that we don’t have that much mutual understanding.”  
Chris looked down on his lover, “What hint-wait.” He scrutinized the blanket and held one of its corners, “May I?”  
“Finally.” Stéphane opened his eyes and snuggled down into the sofa, “Unveil your morning surprise.”  
Chris slowly lifted the blanket. Stéphane was lying on the sofa, relaxed and completely naked. Luckily their house was in a very remote part of the village, so remote that even morning joggers wouldn’t pass by.  
His body was bathed in sunlight. Chris noticed that he must have shaved-or waxed-last night or early this morning, his skin was hair-free and unbelievably smooth. It’s almost like a statue of Greek God in the museums.  
“Hey.” Stéphane waved his hands at Chris, “Are you lost?”  
Chris knelt down beside him to reduce the distance in between, “I was thinking…Your alias were not accurate enough. Both of them.”  
“To be honest, I don’t really like Prometheus as well. What’s wrong with Dionysus? I love music and dance.”  
“You can’t drink. You’ve not improved over the twenty years. God knows how you managed to complete some of the missions.” Chris pointed out, “End of statement. As for music and dance, there’s someone else, and with something that suits you much better.”  
Stéphane rolled his eyes, “Name him, you can’t change my alias anyways.”  
“Apollo*.” Chris pulled on his lover’s shoulder and brought him in to a long and deep gentle kiss, “of beauty and youth.”  
Stéphane laughed, “I won’t dare to claim that name. And there’s one thing which does not suit me.” He paused for a while and flashed his left hand with their wedding ring, “I won’t take that many lovers. Whatever it seems to be. The oath was formally taken 2 weeks ago, but I’ve silently taken it for years.”  
They both knew it. Despite the nature of their work-especially Stéphane’s-which involved some flirting and even occasionally having sex with targets, they knew they were true to each other, and it would remain so.  
“Did you not sleep well last night?” Stéphane lightly pinched his lover’s cheek, “You’re almost daydreaming.”  
“Daydreaming is not equal to being sleepy.” Chris tilted his head to escape from Stéphane’s fingers, “And I still can’t get your entire hint.”  
Stéphane stretched his body, “Here’s your canvas. I challenge you…”he placed a palm on his lover’s chest, “To colour it without pigments.”  
“What’s allowed then?” Chris pressed his palm down to feel more of the warmth, “I’m in no way an artist like you.”  
“Your hands and mouth, tools are allowed if you wish to.” Stéphane answered lazily, “And I don’t mind a little bit of pain.”  
Chris took a deep breath. Both of them used to love leaving marks on each other, which was probably something in their blood. They’re somewhat aggressive, just as anyone would expect from an agent. They had not done so in almost a year, after the kidnapping and rescue. Chris was afraid that any pain and discomfort could trigger a flashback in Stéphane.  
“I…Yes.” Chris could feel that his mouth became dry, “Tell me if it’s too much.”  
Stéphane pouted, “I will. And it seems that you still don’t trust Carolina’s professional skills. I’m fine.”  
Chris pulled him into another deep and aggressive kiss, “It’s a cliché, but I hope you don’t mention others now.”  
Stéphane responded to the kiss, passionately yet obediently. He let his lover take him, exchanged air and breath with him, and even allowed some light bites on his lips. Not enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to give them a brightly red colour and make them plumper.  
The kisses and bites went down on his body. He’s a predator like me, Stéphane thought when Chris was nibbling his Adam’s apple, and happily tilted his head back to give his lover better access.  
The stinging, warm and wet sensation continued to his collarbones, nipples, stomach and torso. Stéphane didn’t try to suppress any noise, as there’s no one could hear them besides the birds. Not even Wonka.  
He spread his legs while Chris held his ankles. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The kisses on his inner thighs actually left him panting.  
I want this man, a voice screamed inside Stéphane’s brain. Anything of him. All of him.  
“Chris.” Stéphane called him, “Come and sit on the sofa.”  
Chris looked up and checked on his lover. He was deep in emotions, but more aroused than pained. “Hmm?”  
Stéphane sat up, pivoted on his knee to turn himself around and straddled his lover with amazing agility. “I want you.”  
Chris tried to hold his waist to stop him from sitting down straight away. “No. You’ll hurt yourself if we don’t---”  
Stéphane quickly opened a condom and put it on his lover. (God knows where he took this from, he is actually a magician, Chris thought) “Why would you think I’ve not prepared your morning surprise well?” He whispered, “I’ve done it.”  
Stéphane slowly sat down onto his lover. Chris still held his waist in both hands to support him, preventing him from losing control of muscles and proceeding too quickly.  
He’s tight, Chris thought, hopefully it’s not too uncomfortable. He didn’t know if it came from Stéphane’s own preparation or from the position-they’ve not done it this way in a long time-but it didn’t feel bad. Actually it felt good.  
Stéphane exhaled when he’s finally all the way down, their skin pressed against each other. Chris looked up at his lover. He was arching back with his eyes shut, the outline of the muscles on his shoulder and arms slightly unclear against the sunlight. Rays of golden streams danced on the tip of his ruffled hair and his eyelashes. Chris’s fingertip traced a line from his lower lip to his chin, passed through the freshly-bitten mark on his neck and stopped on his necklace between his collarbones.  
“Have I ever told you that you look like an archangel*?” Chris pressed on his cross, “You’re…divine*.”  
Stéphane slightly adjusted his position and started to move up and down, “I can’t remember, you probably have? But one factual error,” he giggled, “Angels are not binary, although all of them take masculine names. And I would need to destroy myself at Sodom*.”  
“We are married.” Chris kissed the ring on Stéphane’s finger, “He needs to keep himself up-to-date. Lust may be a cardinal sin, but love is not. And I still wonder why knowledge of good and evil is a sin, after all these years.”*  
Chris touched his lover’s thighs while he was moving. It was an easy position for him, as he just needs to sit and relax. It’s different for the person on top, requiring a great amount of control and strength.  
Stéphane looked slender in his daily work outfit, sometimes even fragile when he’s wearing certain colours and textiles.* But he was strong, both physically and mentally. The outlines of his muscles were still clear and sharp, even when he had retired from active field work for nearly ten years. Even with all his injuries.  
Stéphane kissed him between his brows. “How do you feel? It is alright?”  
“I always thought that’s the question I should ask you.” Chris pulled him closer, “But yes, absolutely good. Give me a shout if it’s getting tiring?”  
“Not yet.” Stéphane bit on his lover’s trapezius, “Don’t attempt to take control.”  
Chris suddenly chuckled as he felt the on-and-off pressure on his lap. Stéphane leaned back and raised a brow to silently ask him why.  
Chris couldn’t hide his grin, “I was thinking about the Christmas party…three years ago? When you gave Charlie a lap dance after Tanya added spirits to your drink.”  
“Urgh.” Stéphane banged his forehead on Chris’s shoulder, “I don’t even want to think about that night. You weren’t there, were you?”  
Chris smiled with mischief, “No, but Meryl sent the video to me. And I did have a very good night. With you.”  
“You bastard.” Stéphane laughed, “I should have realized those bruises did not come from hitting corners of tables and chairs after drinking. You didn’t even talk about it in the morning.”  
“Why would I, having finished my revenge and punishment?” Chris smacked his lover’s upper back and drew out a hiss, “and you were lovely that night when you were crying, which made up for everything. By the way, do you know that video is now a top secret in the headquarters?”  
Stéphane squeezed his muscles and held for a few seconds, “It’s not. I’ve seen the ladies giggling the next few days, looking at their phones. The only thing I could pray for is that it hasn’t go across the ocean.”  
“Meryl promised.” Chris raised both hands when the pressure became unbearable, “I know it’s your revenge now.”  
Stéphane obviously slowed down and made every movement much clearer, “Yes, it’s mine. Ask for more if you want.”  
“Try me.” Chris placed a palm on his chest and pinched his nipple with fingernails unexpectedly, “let’s see who’ll win?”  
“Dirty bastard.” Stéphane resumed his rhythm and gradually increased it, “Right, I’ll bring you there.”  
They cuddled for a long time after their orgasm, skin stuck together with sweat and bodily fluid.  
“It will be pretty weird to wear turtle necks now.” Chris commented, “Not something convenient in the summer.”  
Stéphane hummed nonchalantly, “I’ll use a scarf. I can lend you one if you want.” He stood up and threw the condom away, “Coffee or tea for breakfast? You’ve had me.”  
“Whatever you want. There’s some boiled eggs in the fridge.”  
They sat on the floor and shared a small basket of bread and cold eggs with coffee, watching butterflies and birds in the garden.  
“What a beautiful summer.” Stéphane commented as he spread some jam on his bread, “I can’t believe they even helped to weed the garden without destroying it.”  
Chris leaned closer to him so that their shoulders just touched, “Sonnet 18.”  
“What?” Stéphane turned to look at him, “I didn’t know you like to read Shakespeare?”  
Chris grinned, “Take my hint.”


	12. Dolci Baci E Languide Carezze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more honeymoon smut and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Anal Sex/Consensual Somnophilia  
The title is adapted from the libretto of E Lucevan Le Stelle from Tosca; it literally means 'sweet kisses and languid caresses'.

“Chris.” Stephane walked into the kitchen with his dressing gown. The belt was loosely tied at waist level, but didn’t do much to cover his body.  
Chris was just filling the jar with some newly baked granola from the oven. “Yes, mon cheri?” He turned around and raised a brow. Stephane’s hair was dishevelled, and he looked a little annoyed.  
They planned something tonight, and that was why Stephane had gone to bed so early.  
“I can’t sleep.” Stephane buried his face in both palms, “I’m probably…too excited, after what we discussed earlier, to fall asleep.”  
Chris smiled, and secretly added another entry to ‘The Moments You Find Him Cute’ list. He put down the baking tray and removed the thermo gloves, took a step closer to him and held his wrist. “Don’t worry. We can always do it on another day.”  
“No…the problem is that I know what will happen.” Stephane sighed, “I think you’ll need to surprise me, although I doubt you’ll do anything without me agreeing to it on that day.”  
Stephane was right. Explicit consent was always something extremely important in their intimate relationship, largely because of what happened to him before.  
Chris closed the lid of the jar, threw the baking sheet away and led his lover into the living room. “It’s fine. We’ve had many more nights when things didn’t go according to the plan, haven’t we?”  
Stephane drew his knees to the chest and wrapped his arms around legs, pulling himself into a ball. “Yes, but it hasn’t even started.”  
“Want a movie? Or a TV series if you can’t sleep?” Chris turned the TV on and connected the tablet to it, “Choose one?”  
Stephane didn’t really look at the website, but mindlessly tapped on a poster and played the first episode.  
“I’m not sure it’s a good bedtime TV series,” Chris took a glimpse of the synopsis, “politicians bickering and…bugs eating brains?”  
Stephane turned the lights off, “Don’t you think the bickering of politicians-especially those that don’t really affect us-is the best lullaby?”  
Chris tried very hard not to laugh, “Carolina was right in the Christmas Ball. You really worked too much with MI6 last year.”  
“I guess.” Stephane whined, “I still don’t know why I was assigned to it. I’d prefer mentoring more students.”  
And they watched the Capitol drama together.  
Up to the end of Episode 1, Chris felt something heavy on his shoulder. He turned his head slightly to see if Stephane was starting to get bored of the episodes, but saw him sleeping.  
Oh. Chris smiled and suddenly felt his heart was filled with soft plushies, like those once in their home. Stephane looked extremely peaceful in his sleep, with quiet breaths, long and elegant eyelashes covering his lower eyelid, and the extended neckline. Chris used his left hand to put the TV into silence mode.  
He wasn’t sure if he should just let Stephane sleep, or if he should continue with what they’ve agreed on this evening. It might be fun, but he really didn’t want to disrupt him sleeping like this. He carefully helped his lover to lie on the sofa, noticing him stirred a bit but didn’t wake up. And he sat on the floor close to Stephane, looking at his face illuminated by the TV screen, while the brightness and colour of the light changed as the story went on.  
Stephane’s lips moved slightly and turned his head to the side, with a very soft, almost inaudible sound. Chris suddenly held his breath, and after a while, made his decision and leaned in to kiss his lips.  
Stephane still didn’t wake up.  
That was very unusual of him, or rather, of any agent. They are supposed to be alert at all times, most of them have very light sleep and even ready to put on a fight or take a flight the moment they wake up. Stephane used to be like that in his earlier years, and after his retirement occasionally, when he was assigned to some duty or missions. But his sleep quality had improved tremendously over these years, as they shared the bed in the small flat.  
He knew it’s safe, and there’s nothing to worry about, unless the alarm system set up by Chris goes off.  
Chris straddled his lover and kissed his skin, which was largely not covered by the dressing gown. The silky textile glided away from his body once the belt was undone, revealing his pale flesh and dark body hair.  
And he didn’t wear anything underneath.  
Of course Chris knew his lover’s sleeping habits. He used to claim that the sheets at home are his favourite pyjamas, but that was different, after what they decided what to do tonight.

“I’ve never thought about it before,” Chris frowned as Stephane suggested it, “are you sure it’s alright?”  
Stephane puffed his cheeks up like a hamster, “Of course I’ve never tried it, but at least I can promise I’ll try not to hit you when you wake me up.”

So he continued worshipping, or devouring, his lover’s body. The living room was dark, darker than anywhere they’ve ever done this. It was somehow like sneaking in somebody’s home and doing something wicked, something which can be described as criminal.  
Even though Chris was gentle, there were still some pink and red marks appearing on Stephane’s skin. No bright light was needed to see them. Stephane might be awake now, as a few soft moans escaped from his throat, easily heard in their quiet house; but he didn’t respond to his lover’s caresses, which means, he might be pretending that he’s asleep. Or maybe he was just too lazy to do anything.  
Chris watched his lover when he took both of his ankles in hand and slowly parted his legs. Something dropped from Stephane’s dressing gown pocket and fell to the ground. Chris captured it before it could roll away to get under some furniture and become permanently lost-It was a small bottle of liquid, their lubricant.  
Chris suddenly started to suspect if Stephane really couldn’t sleep earlier, or if it’s a part of his plan. Why would he carry this in his pocket? He searched Stephane’s dressing gown pocket again, and unsurprisingly, found a condom.  
Stephane still didn’t appear to regain his full consciousness when Chris’s fingertip pressed into him. Chris would think someone had drugged his lover, if not they’ve been cooking at home for all this week. It’s either because he was truly sleeping soundly, or because of his excellent acting skills. And Chris had never doubted that his lover is a great actor.  
Stephane finally gave some responses when there’s a fair bit of stretch in him. He whined and stretched both arms, just like what he would do every morning in their bed; and he laughed softly when he realised what was happening to him.  
“That’s very sneaky,” he commented, but spread his leg wider and lifted his hip slightly.  
Chris moved to kiss his lips, “Lack of vigilance. You’ll fail your qualification exam like that.”  
“Then I guess I’ll have to bribe my examiner, or invigilator?” Stephane bent his knees and moved it up Chris’s side, with a mischievous grin.  
Chris pinched his cheeks, “Dirty hints.”  
Stephane didn’t comment, but lifted his hips to grind it against his lover. “It seems that you’re accepting the bribery.” He pulled Chris down for a kiss, “Come, I’m ready.”  
Chris pushed in while indulging himself in the soft and tender kiss.  
“Were you invigilating Koshiro’s exams earlier this year?” Stephane asked when Chris started to thrust into him slowly, “I didn’t even ask you what you were working on those days-Au diable, MI6.” His closed his eyes again, taking everything his lover’s giving him languidly, however too much or too little.  
“No.” Chris tucked Stephane’s loose hair behind his ears, “I set a few papers for them, but yeah, as you said, au diable, MI6. Chloe invigilated Encryption Theory and Lizzy did it for Computational Cryptography practical.”  
“You were in a good mood then?” Stephane threw his head back as Chris hit him hard, “Koshiro didn’t complain about these papers.”  
“I can set a hard one for you if you want.” Chris nibbled Stephane’s neck, “Stop thinking about the exams.”  
Stephane moaned, “I thought I bribed you?”  
“No guarantees.” Chris kissed him again, “Integrity is one of our work ethics, no?”  
Stephane bit his lover’s lips, “You can’t fail me anyway.”

“When did you actually wake up?” Chris dropped a light kiss onto Stephane’s nose tip as he lied on top of his lover and traced a fingertip along Stephane’s collarbones, “I suspect you were pretending to be asleep.”  
“I could feel you kissing me. I accused you of sneaky once I became fully conscious.” Stephane poked Chris’s forehead, “Again, sneaky.”  
“That was surprisingly late.” Chris was genuinely surprised, “I thought you would be alert once I started to touch you.” And he could guess why.  
“I feel safe under your touch.” Stephane smiled, “I don’t have to come to any defence. By the way, you woke me up after I could finally sleep tonight, shouldn’t you compensate for that?”  
Chris laughed and dragged Stephane up to the bedroom. “I will.”


	13. That's All I Need To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chris knew a colleague passed away and thought about Stephane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Referenced past indirectly experienced trauma/Anal Sex/Rough Sex Undertone/Barebacking

_"You're here/That's all I need to know"_

_-A Little Fall of Rain, Les Misérables the Musical_

Chris didn’t arrive home until midnight. He sighed as he looked up at the window of their little apartment, and saw that the light was on. Stéphane was home.  
He didn’t usually work late these days. Over the years, he had trained a few talented young officers, who could coordinate and even co-command planned missions.  
But an agent reported an emergency this afternoon. After assessing the situation, it was deemed to be important and life-threatening. The Operation Department quickly organized a mission and requested assistance from the Communications.  
It took some time for them to track the agent’s location, check the surroundings and hack the enemy’s security system. The agent was rescued, but didn’t make it to the medical wing. The operation team gave her first aid and tried to resuscitate her, but she passed away on her way back, due to excessive blood loss from a gunshot.  
The team still sent her to the medical wing. Laura didn’t say anything, but covered her face with the white sheet.  
Chris offered to stay with Chloe, who was on duty tonight, to help her finish the last bit of the operation and fill in the report form. “Is it the first time?” He asked as the young officer uploaded the first part of the report, with pale lips and slightly shaky hands.  
Chloe nodded. “..Yes. I mean, there were many missions and operations that I took part in, and I knew many colleagues who were injured, even some personal friends. I didn’t know her, but…”  
Chris placed a hand on her shoulder, “I know it’s difficult. But…you’ll know.” He attempted to give her a smile, “I can stay in the office tonight, if it’s better.”  
The young officer kept silent for a moment but declined it. “I’ll be fine.” She clicked ‘Print’ on the system, “I just need your signature on the report.”  
Chris signed the paper and saw her filing it. She pushed Chris out of the office, “Go home. Have you told your boyf…your partner that you’ll be late?”

In fact, he didn’t. He texted Stéphane when he was on the metro, but Stéphane didn’t reply. Maybe he was already asleep, but left the light on.  
Chris opened the door of their apartment, tried to make as little sound as possible as he walked in, but found Stéphane in the lounge.  
He was dozing off on the sofa, with some music playing softly from the Bluetooth speaker and a book on his lap. Stéphane was waiting for him.  
Chris knelt on one knee and looked at his partner. There were some strange thoughts on his way back, after he texted Stéphane but received no reply. He thought about many years ago, when there was a similar situation and when he was sitting in the office. When he made it to the medical wing, there were many others waiting outside the emergency room, and all he can see outside the window were a group of medical personnel surrounding a hospital bed, and the screen of a vitals monitor. He tried not to think about all those ‘what if’s.  
“Chris?” Stéphane woke up, “you’re back.”  
Chris looked up and met his eyes. “…You don’t have to wait for me. Go to the bedroom if you’re tired, I know you always want your eight hours of sleep.”  
Stéphane quickly felt there was something wrong, although Chris managed to put up a smile. “What happened?” He pulled his lover onto the sofa to sit beside him, “you look quite upset.”  
Chris couldn’t tell Stéphane, as the agent was involved in a highly confidential mission. He could only fix his gaze on his lover, but it didn’t take too long for Stéphane to roughly figure it out.  
Stéphane brought his lover into his arms and hugged him, “I’m here. I’m safe.” He murmured, “Don’t worry.”  
Chris wrapped his arm around his partner and held him tight, almost enough to hurt. He needed to feel him to make sure it’s true.  
Stéphane didn’t attempt to get free, but found Chris’s lips and kissed him. Chris responded to it with all his passion and probably some sense of relief, and before he realized it, Stéphane was pinned to the sofa with a position which was definitely uncomfortable.  
“Well,” Stéphane smiled as Chris reflexively released him, “I hope you’ve had some dinner in the headquarters?”  
Chris nodded, but heard his lover giggling a moment later. He didn’t know why Stéphane was laughing-although he could be laughing for any random reason-before his lover poked at his trousers and felt his own erection.  
Stéphane smiled as he saw Chris blushing, “Normally I will insist on my sleep. But occasionally staying up late is fine.” He cupped his partner’s cheeks, “If you want to.”  
Chris looked into Stéphane’s brown eyes and knew that he was not just flirting. Stéphane must have guessed what was in his mind. They had the ability to read each other’s mind, at least partially, after being together for such a long time.  
Stéphane didn’t give his partner more time to hesitate, but stood up and dragged him back to the bedroom. “If anything can make you feel better, I’ll be happy to.” He whispered, “Just..tell me. Or show me.”  
They fell onto the mattress together, and undressed each other. Skin contact brought about a deeper feeling of reassurance. He is here, Chris repeated to himself, safely home with me. In my arms.  
Everything else came naturally for them. Kissing, cuddling and of course, preparations. Chris knew that he wasn’t gentle tonight, but he couldn’t really control himself. Stéphane continued to reassure him with short sentences and a low but steady voice. God knows how he kept his voice from shaking at this time.  
Chris hesitated for a moment before opening the foil package of a condom. He didn’t know what was in his mind, as not using protection was never an option in their bedroom, or anywhere which functions as a bedroom.  
Stéphane took it and tossed it aside. “It’s fine. I’m clean and I know you are.” He held his lover’s hand, “Anything else?”  
“I just need to hold you.” Chris pressed his cheeks to his lover’s neck and felt his pulse, strong and steady, “Sorry, I don’t know what went wrong tonight…”  
Stéphane gently stroked his dark curls, “Don’t apologize. I’m glad that it can make you feel better.” He thought for a moment, “I’m assuming you want some body contact, probably maximum contact?” He gave his lover a gentle push, “Try this.”  
Chris let his lover free and saw him rolling to his side, kneeling on the mattress and supported his upper body with both hands. “Are you sure…?” They don’t commonly go for this position. Besides Stéphane’s knee problems, Chris was sometimes worried about the connotations of it, simply because what his lover had experienced in his missions.  
Stéphane hummed. “I know it’s you, just press down.” He extended an arm back and pulled Chris closer, “Come.”  
Chris kissed his shoulder blades and held his waist while pressing in. Both of them knew that the preparation tonight wasn’t that thorough, and there would be some discomfort. But that wasn’t important. Stéphane soon pulled his lover down, with Chris’s arms wrapping around his torso and putting the body weight onto him. He lowered his chest down to the mattress, and made a gesture to his lover, “Take it. Everything’s yours.”  
Passion and adrenaline dominated the night, probably together with some endorphins. It wasn’t the most comfortable sex they’d ever had, but all the sensations which normally came with some negative connotations made them feel each other and feel that everything was real.  
Stéphane wrapped his palm around his erection before he came, so as not to make their sheets dirty, and Chris came inside his lover when nibbling his nape of neck.  
They pressed together for some more time, before Chris released his grip on Stéphane and slowly pulled out. It was not difficult to know that it might hurt for him, just judging from the ring of flushed and slightly swollen muscles.  
Chris gently brought him into an embrace again, “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” The answer is obvious, both the actual answer and what Stéphane would say.  
“Hmm.” Stéphane rolled to his side, “But I need a bath now. Good night?”  
Chris kissed on the mark he just left on his lover’s neck, “I’ll help you, if you’d allow me to.”  
Stéphane smiled. “Of course.” He stood up while taking care not to leave anything on their beddings and walked to the bathroom. Chris followed him and kept an arm around his waist.

They sat in the bathtub, with Stéphane straddling his lover. Chris carefully pushed a finger in and coaxed him to relax. “I’ll tell you what’s allowed. A colleague just passed away.” He sighed, “I couldn’t say that I wasn’t prepared for it. I’m not referring to a particular person. But it’s still hard to accept.”  
Stéphane moved closer, “I’ve guessed it, something along these lines.” He wrapped both arms around him, put his chin on his partner’s shoulder and closed his eyes. There was a little bit of pain and discomfort, but it also felt soothing and reassuring.  
“Wait a moment,” Stéphane said as Chris finished cleaning him and was about to retrieve his finger, “Could you…keep it there?” He murmured, “Just a little bit longer. It feels good.”  
Chris raised his brow but complied. He slowly moved his finger in and out, taking care not to touch anywhere that he knew to be sensitive. Overstimulation is not a good idea, at least not now.  
They slowly calmed down in each other’s arms and cuddled in silence, until the water started to turn cold.  
“Good night my darling, sleep well.”Stéphane whispered as they returned to the bed, “I’ll try not to throw a pillow at you when my alarm goes off in the morning.”  
Chris smiled and pulled his lover close.


End file.
